


Children of the Western Sun

by wingsofthenight



Series: Children of the Western Sun [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: All of the Martells live, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because Rhaella has done nothing wrong ever in her life, Doran Martell is an exhausted older brother, Dorne, Dorne deserves better, Elia Martell Deserves Better, Elia Martell Lives, Great Moraq, Multi, Not Targaryen Friendly, Oberyn Martell is a Good Parent, Rhaella Targaryen Friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 105,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23991874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsofthenight/pseuds/wingsofthenight
Summary: Years later, many would try to piece together the events that led to Dorne's independence from the rest of the kingdoms of Westeros and their relationship with Great Moraq and the other nations of Essos. There are many different suggestions of what happened, but they miss the truth: Prince Oberyn Nymeros Martell got drunk, got passage on a ship leading there, and ended up befriending then Prince Mehmed, the future Sultan of Great Moraq.
Relationships: Doran Martell/Mellario of Norvos, Elia Martell/Original Character(s), Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand
Series: Children of the Western Sun [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758685
Comments: 648
Kudos: 205
Collections: Southern Renaissance (Dorne Renaissance)





	1. Two Princes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lostchildofthenewworld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostchildofthenewworld/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Shadowed Path](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22658122) by [lostchildofthenewworld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostchildofthenewworld/pseuds/lostchildofthenewworld). 



> First of all, can we please talk about the fact that the former Princess of Dorne's tag on this site is "Doran and Elia and Oberyn Martell's Mother?" Why can't she get a name when literally every single one of her contemporaries and their families get names Martin? Please explain to me because I would dearly love to know.
> 
> Anyway, so this is a completely different fandom than I've written for. It's been years since I've written anything not for a video game, and I think this is the first non-animated fandom I've written for if I'm remembering right. I blame falling into the rabbit hole of wondering why GoT season 8 was so despised, ended up reading a little too much fanfic, somehow picked Oberyn as my favorite character and ended up in the side rabbit hole of Dorne-centric stuff, and finally read A Shadowed Path and this idea refused to leave my mind and I've had nothing better to do the past couple of months than to plot and write it.
> 
> This is heavily inspired by A Shadowed Path by lostchildofthenewworld, particularly in the country of Great Moraq and characterization of the characters from it. I really hope that I haven't completely screwed them up and please tell me if I did...
> 
> If you didn't read the tags, this is not going to be very friendly to House Targaryen. (Except Rhaella, she deserved so much better.) Aerys is a given, and I do not have a high opinion of Rhaegar. At all. If you have a problem with this, enter at your own discretion and do not complain to me about it since I warned you.
> 
> (The other houses of Westeros should be fine, more or less, just so you know.)
> 
> Finally, I'm hoping to post one chapter a week for this to prevent burnout. Maybe two if I manage to somehow get ahead in writing, but please do not count on it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this fic ^^

**276 AC- Great Moraq**

Nineteen days.

That’s how long Oberyn was in Great Moraq before someone important finally noticed that he was there. Even after that one incident with that extremely stupid guard.

(In their defense, he knew that Dorne did not have any real trade with them, and he probably was the first member of House Nymeros Martell to visit and was really only there by chance. There was also the fact that he had decided to see how long it took them to figure out who he was and thus hadn’t done much other than hang around the port, but it was still a little sad.)

The good news was that the poor guy they had sent with an invitation for him to meet the lord of this area was alone, meaning that they probably weren’t planning to use him for some nefarious purpose. Even better was the fact that said guy happened to find him in the inn's bar while he happened to be sharpening one of his knives, so he was able to come closer to fulfilling his daily quota of terrifying people for no good reason.

“Would you be Prince Oberyn Martell?”

The messenger was very good at hiding his nervousness, Oberyn would give him that. Unfortunately for him, he had the advantage of growing up with a mother like Loreza Martell. She had refused to let any of her children become anything even approaching an idiot, after all, and teaching them how to read people was a part of that, so he was able to see the far too rigid set of the man's spine and the way his thumb kept brushing a rolled piece of parchment in his belt as if to reassure himself that it was still there.

Also unfortunately for the messenger, he was bored enough to keep sharpening the knife’s blade even as he addressed the poor kid. That’s what one gets for showing up in the early afternoon when the lunch crowd had left and he hadn’t found anything better to do, however.

“Who’s asking?” Oberyn finally replied, keeping an eye on the guy out of the corner of his eye as he pretended that his knife still needed sharpening.

“I have an invitation for you to visit Prince Mehmed Han, son of Sultan Mehmet Han, governor of this province, at his manor,” the messenger answered, removing the roll of parchment from his belt and holding it out to him.

Oberyn just looked at the offered note with a raised eyebrow. “An invitation, or an _invitation?”_ he asked, making sure to stress the last word. He’d go either way, but he’d prefer to know what he would be walking into.

“An invitation,” came the reply, no emphasis on the word.

At that, he shrugged and grabbed the letter, scanning it and seeing for himself that, yes, the language was formal, but not what he would consider to be threatening. Moraq wasn’t Westeros- something he hadn’t been there long enough to decide was a good thing or not- but he’d seen enough of the letters his mother received from the noxious nobility she sadly had to stay in contact with, so he was willing to believe that this was truly was just an invitation to be this Mehmed’s guest for now.

“I accept Prince Mehmed’s offer. This message said that you are to lead me to his estate?”

The poor messenger finally relaxed at that. Must be new and worried that he’d have to explain to an unreceptive superior why he came back with nothing to show for his trip. He did look pretty young. “Yes, of course. I came with a group of guards, we will lead you there.”

“Just give me a few minutes to get my bags from my room.”

“Of course. The prince is not expecting you until dinner, take the time you need.”

* * *

The first thing that Oberyn did after arriving at the estate, being greeted by one of the Pashas that advised the prince who told him that Prince Mehmed Han bid that he rest before meeting him for dinner, and being led to his guest room, was scrutinize every last inch of the very nice and spacious quarters he had been given to check for any spyholes or secret entrances. He surprisingly found none of the latter and only a couple of the former, none in his actual sleeping quarters. It made him wonder both about his mother’s tales of her time in the Red Keep and the fact that the Moraqi sultan reportedly had magic users in his court…

The second thing he did was wash off the grime of travel he’d picked up on the way here. He would have been satisfied just giving himself a cloth bath as was customary in his homeland and even during his travels in Essos, but a couple of very comely servants had already drawn him a bath. (He’d debated the merits of outright flirting with them, but he unfortunately realized that might not the best idea before meeting the person in charge for the first time. Not to mention the depressing fact that one of them only seemed to know a few words of Valyrian and he sadly enough wasn’t fluent in Moraqi quite yet.)

The third thing he did was enjoy the extremely comfortable bed with it’s soft, silken sheets and have a bit of a delayed siesta.

Fully refreshed and noticing how low the sun was in the sky, he then made himself presentable for the dinner with his fellow prince. He didn’t have much in the way of jewels on him, but that was no issue in his humble opinion. Oftentimes having too many baubles on made you look foolish instead of dignified, which was unfortunately something few seemed to realize. He had picked up some fine clothes during his travels however, so he didn’t have to imagine his mother’s disapproving look. He had received many of those during his childhood when he showed up to an important meeting after having managed to evade his nursemaids and not gotten dressed in the outfit they had laid out for him. Some of his earliest memories involved that look… even worse was that Doran managed to inherit it despite otherwise taking after their father, so he tended to get it from two different directions… at least his father had just scowled at them if they misbehaved (which granted had been effective enough) and his uncle was atrocious at giving disapproving looks?

His uncanny sense of timing proved to be as good as ever, for as soon as he had finished dressing a servant came to tell him that Prince Mehmed was ready to meet him for dinner.

He was surprisingly led to a private dining room instead of a larger one. Not quite into what he believed to be the royal apartments, but still a more intimate setting than he had expected, one that would hopefully mean there would be few other nobles around, as odd as that seemed to him. There was no way he was about to complain, however- the less obnoxious nobility (or people in general) he was around, the better, especially after the reasons that had caused him to leave Meereen in such a hurry before he caused yet another incident by killing someone.

Thankfully, this prince did not make him wait outside the door for long before receiving him, and before long he was announced and let in. With the right name too, surprisingly- even many in Westeros forgot that his family was of House _Nymeros_ Martell, and he had not expected someone from so far away to remember that fact.

Oberyn’s first thought upon seeing Prince Mehmed was regret that his mother had persistently reminded him of the fact that overly flirting with someone important he did not know was a terrible idea that could cause diplomatic incidents. Who could blame him for mourning the inability to flirt with someone attractive though? Well, besides Doran, who was not attracted to men and who refused to get a wife and have some children despite their mother’s increasingly obvious hints that he should, but he should not count because he was far too serious all of the time. He loved his brother, was very glad that he was the heir to the Sunchair instead of him, but he could stand to be less uptight at times. At least Elia was happy enough to discuss whether someone was attractive or not with him, so one of his siblings had hope.

Oh, right. Prince Mehmed.

He _was_ handsome. Tall, with a less lithe build than his own but not to the level of being too stocky, lightly tanned skin, and russet curls peeking out of his turban. Alas, his parents’ lessons in prudence occasionally took hold, so he was just that, something attractive to look at.

As he had thought when he was led to this more private room, Prince Mehmed was the only one at the table. Well, besides the guards lingering in the corners, but they actually succeeded in achieving the dream of so many soldiers and blended into the background well enough that something about them rose the hair on the back of his neck, causing him to decide then and there that he would not do anything that could be constructed as an attack. He may be confident in his combat skills, but fighting guards that possibly had some magical training in such a small space? Not to mention that he had heard that at one point this prince himself had personally led an army against a Dothraki hoard…

“Prince Oberyn,” Prince Mehmed greeted him, nodding his head at him in acknowledgement.

“Prince Mehmed,” he replied, returning the gesture.

“Please, sit down,” Prince Mehmed said, nodding at the chair opposite him, gesturing for a nearby servant to pour them some wine as he did.

The table was set with enough food for them both to select at their leisure, and his fellow prince was already sipping at his wine as Oberyn settled into his seat. Whether it was on purpose or not, he appreciated the gesture. It was always reassuring to know that they had no obvious plans to poison him, after all. Unless this prince had spent years building up an immunity to poison, but Oberyn had been doing the same, so it would not avail him in this instance.

“I was surprised to hear your name spoken of in the port. Usually visiting nobility announce themselves from the moment they leave their ship.”

Asking the important questions first. Oberyn approved. It was refreshing to just get to the heart of the matter rather than deal with pointless pleasantries.

The younger prince of Dorne sipped at his wine- sweeter than his preference, but not anywhere near as disgusting as the swill the Reach tried to pass off as good wine- as he debated how to answer. Yes, one of his reasons for not announcing himself had been that he was genuinely curious as to how long it would take someone to notice, but-

“Would you believe me,” he started, meeting his host’s eyes with a level look, “if I said that I did not want to take the chance of having to deal with any nobles that are the same sort of scum that caused me to leave Meereen due to the fact I would have started a diplomatic incident if I had to spend another moment in their rancid presences?”

In that moment, as Oberyn looked into Prince Mehmed’s eyes, he was struck by how much he was reminded of his brother Doran. It wasn’t their eye color- all three of Loreza Martell’s living children had inherited their father’s near black eyes while the Moraqi prince had lighter brown ones- but in the fathomless way they held your gaze, taunting you with the knowledge that they were drawing their own conclusions of you based on your words and actions, and yet refusing to let you know what said conclusions were.

One thing Oberyn had learned about Great Moraq during his short stay on their shores was how succession worked in their empire. He still hadn’t completely decided what he thought of the fact that a sultan’s child wasn’t guaranteed to succeed them on their throne- it lessened the chance of a fool taking the throne and leading their country to ruin if someone couldn’t lessen the damage, but it also sounded like a great way to create a succession crisis- but not even five minutes after meeting this particular prince, he was certain that he was meeting the next sultan.

Well, his mother had always wanted him to make important friends. If she was anything but pleased by this, it would be ridiculously easy for them to out an imposter.

After a long moment, Prince Mehmed actually snorted. “I would say that the nobility here are all perfect paragons of virtue, but I would prefer not to start a conversation with such a blatant lie.”

That got Oberyn to let out a surprised bark of laughter. He definitely hadn’t expected that kind of reply. “Good to know that some things are constant throughout the world, that there will always be people who are unfortunately too well connected to stab in polite company.”

And now it was Prince Mehmed’s turn to laugh. A real one, deep and throaty, not the kind of fake one that so many attempted to pass off as real. That was a good sign, a ruler who actually found things amusing instead of just pretended to- or didn’t at all. “The world would be a much better place if we were able to.”

“Finally, someone who understands!” Oberyn grinned, taking a few bites of the food he had chosen to start with- some strange fish from these waters he couldn’t identify with plain white rice. For a moment he wished that he was home, eating the seasoned rice the Dornish had favored ever since the Rice Princesses had come to their shores and captured his ancestor’s eye close to four hundred years ago, but he pushed that feeling aside. He could have easily gone to another one of the Free Cities and sent a letter making sure that he could head home, but he had not, and he refused to regret it just because he wanted seasoned rice more often.

After a few moments of companionable silence, his fellow prince broke the silence. “What made you choose to come to Great Moraq? We have not seen many Westerosi on our shores.”

Well. There was the short version and the long version. The short… “I had the opportunity to get passage on a merchant ship that’s destination was here, and I decided that seeing another corner of the world would be worth it. I was as surprised that they allowed me to come with them as you no doubt are,” Oberyn replied, sipping at his wine and neatly avoiding the fact that he’d gone to the port in Meereen, drunk and determined to leave the city as soon as he could find a ship to carry him before he did something his mother and brother would actually kill him for, and only finding out when he had managed to revive himself the next day that he had somehow managed to convince the captain of a merchant ship that we would be an asset to their crew on their voyage to Moraq despite having drunk so much that he had no memory of it.

His drunk self was apparently surprisingly charismatic. He did not think it wise to share this fact just in case he ever needed to use it again.

At that, Prince Mehmed actually blinked in surprise, setting down the goblet he had continuously been takings sips from. “You came here because you wished to see more of the world?” he asked, a curious note to his voice.

Oberyn shrugged, sipping at his own wine. “Yes? Just because I doubt there will ever be better place than my homeland does not mean that other places won’t have things that can make Dorne even better,” he stated, not entirely sure why he was so surprised at the idea.

Then again, if he had heard tales of how many in Westeros tended to act about foreign lands that did not share their own culture…

Prince Mehmed stared at him for several long moments before the corners of his lips turned up. He leaned back in his seat as he reclaimed his goblet and took a long sip from it. “Prince Oberyn, I believe we shall get along splendidly,” he finally said.

Oberyn had to agree as he returned the smile, for just from this short conversation he knew that this trip would not be boring. Which was very good, as he himself would admit that he should not be allowed to be bored lest he instigated yet another incident.

Deciding to change the subject, the youngest prince of Dorne asked, “So, tell me, where can I learn your language? I’ve picked up some words and phrases since I arrived, but I am forced to admit that your writing system is too different from what I’m used to for me to pick it up the same way.”

“It is different, that is true. If you wish, I can see if I can find someone to teach you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the diverging point from canon is Oberyn getting drunk on his "Epic Essossi Adventures" and somehow signing up for a ship going to Great Moraq and rolling with it. Don't try to tell me that he wouldn't. What were his reasons for booking it out of the city he was at? You decide! Seriously, whatever it was, it was not good. There may or may not have been some poison left behind that will hopefully find it's way into the offending party's hands when he's far enough away that no one would suspect him.
> 
> Despite it being the name of one of the most famous Ottoman sultans (possibly the most famous), my computer browser isn't recognizing Mehmed as a correct name because that makes sense.
> 
> I'm not sure if this is a popular opinion or not, but I actually think that, due to all of his travels, Oberyn is actually pretty open to new ideas and change that would help his country. I think that even in canon some of the ideas he's heard of were implemented. I mean, it's not like we see enough of Dorne to contradict that headcanon...
> 
> I will warn you: there won't be many chapters focusing on Oberyn's time in Moraq. In fact, I only have two planned. There are a few reasons, one is that we haven't seen it in A Shadowed Path and I don't want to be completely off the ball, another is that I really want to write the Dorne scenes, but most importantly: given these two shits, if I tried writing their adventures it'd be like twenty chapters until we got to the main plot I want to write. I am planning to write a spin-off of their adventures later on though, so don't worry!
> 
> Next chapter: Mehmed muses on how odd Oberyn is, and we get to see Lady Mara, who is awesome and somewhat terrifying to Oby because she reminds him of his own mother.


	2. Thoughts on the West

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mehmed ruminates on what he has learned of Oberyn and Dorne itself.

Oberyn Nymeros Martell was one of the oddest people that Mehmed had met.

For one, it was not everyday that the son of the ruler of a country wound up in a foreign land and yet did not breathe a single word about his status. In fact, this was the first time he had ever even heard of it outside of legends.

It had made him wonder at this country of Dorne, for while Moraq had never had much trade with that country, other cities and countries in Essos had. From everything he had learned of it, it was the most independent nation of Westeros, and the only country that other cities in Essos would reluctantly admit to be halfway redeemable from that continent. While one should not judge an entire family based on one member- he had a couple of cousins that would more than prove that for the Han family- he had not believed it boded well for the Martell family, that one of their members would be so careless of his position.

Actually meeting Prince Oberyn made him reconsider that opinion.

The man put on a veneer of frivolity, that much was true, but if one actually looked at him, it was clear that the man was incredibly intelligent and perceptive- few immediately noticed the Shadow Guards lingering in the corner of the room, especially if they were not already part of the Moraqi court- if a bit too prone to making rash decisions out of nothing but boredom.

Or just rash decisions in general, as even the man himself would admit happened with the incident that led to him gaining the moniker of the Red Viper.

Mehmed had been curious as to that incident, for even before Oberyn had thought to land here he had heard whispers from the ports that the youngest son of the Princess of Dorne had been exiled for poisoning one of their bannermen in a duel. He had quickly learned that it was not an official exile; rather, Princess Loreza Martell had simply sent her son to Essos until things calmed down in their country.

That particular revelation had only led to further questions, for from the fond stories Oberyn had exchanged with him involving his family, he had no doubt that his mother would have given a far worse punishment had it truly been something terrible.

As he had suspected, the incident had not been, and he himself would personally not consider the whole incident to be Oberyn’s fault at all.

Oh, the man could say all he wished that he should have handled things better, and in all fairness he probably could have, but the fact remains that he had no idea what was going on until he was already in the middle of it.

One thing he had learned was how paramours were treated in Dorne. Unlike mistresses in other places, a paramour requires consent between all possible parties- the paramour themselves, the person wishing for one, and any spouse either party may have. Others could have say- children could make things very difficult for their parents if they disliked a choice, the head of a household could veto a paramour if it would cause undue strife, and if someone with more rank put their foot down for whatever reason one was forced to listen to them- but at the heart of it, it was an agreement between those three.

Edgar Yronwood, the Lord of Castle Yronwood, did not make any attempt to honor that kind of agreement. He had lured in a woman to be his paramour, and yet never informed his wife of this fact, instead falsely assuring the woman that his wife had agreed when asked. When the truth came to light, he chose to take actions to prevent either of the women from leaving or telling someone the situation.

If Mehmed was being honest, he was surprised that neither woman had murdered that lord in all of the time that they were forced to spend with the piece of filth. He personally would have without any hesitation, nor would most of the women he had known, not in the least his own mother and sister. Perhaps neither of the women had been able to for whatever reason. Men like that unfortunately managed to find ways to evade justice before it inevitably catches up to them.

Whatever reasoning they had, Mehmed did not agree with how they resolved the matter. Instead of taking advantage of the paramour coming across Oberyn wandering in the gardens of the castle without any Yronwood guards and simply telling him about the situation in hopes that he could bring it to his mother, she instead managed to get into bed with him, not informing him of who she was until the next morning when Yronwood had the castle in an uproar. When that noble found out what had occurred, Oberyn had been forced into a duel, and no doubt would have regardless of whatever heated comments had been exchanged, for Oberyn had admitted to the fact that he was not the one to call for the duel.

The good news was that, despite Oberyn having to make a fairly quick exit to avoid the first rush of judgement, once things had calmed down and more and more information been exchanged- quite possibly by the vindictive women involved- there were many who felt that all parties were at fault. It also helped that, depending on what would have been decided during a trial, death had been a possible punishment for Yronwood, albeit a somewhat extreme one that was seldom used. Most likely he would have been forced to pass his lordship onto his son and put into seclusion for years.

Mehmed approved of that. It was similar to the laws in place here, albeit looser. In Moraq, a wife was the one allowed to choose a mistress for her husband, and even with a wife that was willing give her husband options, many still chose not to have one at all due to the laws and stringent penalties for violating them, instead making certain that they could stand the wife they took. It was relieving to know that another country, even one as far away as Dorne with much different influences than the ones that had shaped Moraq into the empire it was today, did not treat women horribly. Of course, perhaps it was not surprising, as Princess Nymeria of Ny Sar's name was spoken of with reverence even this far to the east.

After that, he had asked more and more questions about Dorne. It was not all they talked about- Oberyn was genuinely interested in Moraqi culture and asked much about it, something that he gladly obliged, albeit while laughing at his attempts to learn how to read and write Moraqi since learning a completely different alphabet proved to be a challenge- but he learned enough to make him deeply interested in forming ties with Dorne.

Not in the least because he wished to get his hands on some Sand Steeds. He loved Moraq’s own horse breeds, but there was no reason not to see if they could be improved even more, and even if they could not be fresh bloodlines were always welcome.

Their horses were not the only Dornish things that he wished to see come to Moraq, though they were the first to catch his eye. It turns out that Dorne, despite much of it’s territory being covered by desert, had more than a few different plants and herbs that were very helpful when making medicines and other remedies. Remedies that the rest of Westeros seemingly refused to take advantage of for what he believed to be foolish reasons.

When asked, Oberyn had shrugged and said it was probably because the Citadel was petty enough to ignore things that would help their field just because, even near a hundred years after Dorne had (extremely reluctantly) agreed to follow the Targaryens, their Maesters were still not looked to for every little issue a Dornishman had. Oh, they still had a place and people came to them with issues, but they were still very secondary to traditional Dornish healers, ones that learned their craft from an early age or a long apprenticeship, and who apparently had much better training methods that didn’t make one want to stab their eye out in boredom according to Oberyn, who had spent time training with both groups.

Mehmed did agree that that theory made sense and was more than likely at least part of the reason, but he personally thought that there was another, much more likely one to be found, one that few would acknowledge, let alone admit.

After all, given what he knew about the countries of Westeros north of the Red Mountains of Dorne, why would they ever want to admit that a country famed for doing what none of rest had managed and spent centuries holding off a group of dragons that wished to conquer a land they had no right to had anything to offer but “scandalous traditions” that were so far from their own? A country that, due to their persistence, managed to keep their ruler’s titles and had freedoms that none could take away for fear of a drawn-out rebellion?

The more Mehmed learned about Westeros- or at least the countries not on it’s southern tip- the more he believed that perhaps his fellow Essosi may have a point with some of their opinions on that continent.

He was not the only one very intrigued by Dorne, as he found out when his mother, Sultana Mara, came to visit but a fortnight after Oberyn had arrived, even if her interest came from another direction that he had not learned of until now.

Mehmed had been a bit distracted by Oberyn’s first meeting with Lady Mara, so he hadn’t noticed immediately. It had only taken a total of two minutes of interaction before the prince of Dorne had declared that he would from now on hope that she never met his own mother. Lady Mara had simply laughed at that, saying that she had to find a way to meet Loreza Martell now thanks to his words.

It was only after that amusing conversation, when they were eating dinner, that he started to notice the differences in their interest.

It was not that Lady Mara wasn’t interested in what they could trade with Dorne. Quite the opposite actually; she had made him brief her on everything he had learned when she first arrived before they had even called in Oberyn to meet her.

The difference was how, even as she dispersed it with other questions about Dorne in general, she kept asking about his family. Even though it wasn’t anything too out of the ordinary- the Martells were the rulers of their territory, interest in them was only natural- he had to wonder about all the questions. Judging by the occasional glances Oberyn gave her, he suspected he was not the only one, though he never gave any other indication that he had noticed.

It was only later, when they were alone, that he was finally able to ask and receive an answer to his questions.

Lady Mara had slowly smiled at him before saying, “My son, I asked all those questions because I spoke with our astrologers shortly before I received your message informing your father and I of your guest.”

That was something he had not yet done, though he had thought about it after telling Oberyn of their religion the other day. He would still ask, for it was good to get more than one interpretation of the gods’ words for men could be wrong in what they see, but the sultana’s next words were enough to make him grateful that he had chosen to invite that prince to stay with him during his visit.

“The stars tell of prosperity for our empire coming from strong ties to the children of the western sun. Tell me, my son, what is the Martell’s sigil again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically the whole thing with Yronwood was just a mess. Everyone screwed up regardless of Mehmed's opinion on the subject. Oberyn himself will admit that it wasn't his finest moment, though at least he can be somewhat excused as a horny 16 year old who had no idea what was going on. He still got read the riot act my his entire family though, so there is that.
> 
> I know that I have a habit of overthinking things, but am I really the only one who doesn't think it makes sense for Dorne to rely on maesters like the rest of the continent? I mean, they've only been part of the seven kingdoms officially for not even a hundred years at this point, and are still pretty fiercely independent. Why would they put all their trust in a group that's based in the Reach to care for them? It doesn't really make sense to me...
> 
> I'm actually crying about the lack of Lady Mara. I promise that next chapter will feature her being amazing more! And she will get to meet Loreza Martell! That is not negotiable because those two women need to meet and terrify their enemies with their friendship!
> 
> So... like I said at the beginning, I don't like this chapter much. It feels like too much filler to me and not what I wanted at all. Not in the least because I had to get rid of this beautiful exchange between Mehmed and Oberyn:  
> “That is good. Here many don’t bother having a mistress, for a wife has a say in who a man can take to his bed. It is a foolish man who does not listen to them.”  
> “Foolish seems like too light of a term to use.”  
> “Injudicious?”  
> “I was thinking brainless, but that is much better, not in the least because they would spend far too long attempting to understand what that word means.”
> 
> Yeah. I could not fit it back in for the life of me ;-;
> 
> Anyway, next chapter: Timeskip, after which Oby gets news from Westeros and starts PLOTTING! Good plotting that will benefit everyone (or at least his family and the people he likes), but still plotting.


	3. Drastic Measures for Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Oberyn realizes that he will have to do something drastic to ensure his sister's happiness.
> 
> (Please note that Oberyn is a massive drama queen and it's not actually drastic at all.)

**277, Great Moraq**

Oberyn should have known that having spent near three blessed years without getting news of Westeros falling to pieces was too good to be true.

His mother’s latest letter hadn’t seemed out of the ordinary. Mostly at least; the news that Doran, his infamous bachelor of an older brother, had actually found someone he wanted to marry after thirty years of life on this planet had made him wonder if Loreza Martell was okay. But the fact remained that at first glance, there was absolutely nothing alarming about the letter.

All it had on the surface was news of their homeland. She had written of how trade with Moraq was still proceeding smoothly. as were negotiations for opening trade with Yi Ti and Leng, which he was relieved for. Since he had arrived at the Moraqi port a year ago, he had learned of many different things they had that could benefit Dorne, and yet given he knew what some people’s opinions on other countries were, he had been worried that someone would make things difficult for them.

Of course, if they had made things very difficult for his family, Doran would not be allowed to make the first impulsive act of his life and decide to bring back a bride from Norvos. Not that Oberyn was upset about that at all, the longer his brother had gone without marrying and having kids the more he worried about his mother putting all the pressure on him to.

(It wasn’t that he was necessarily _opposed_ to marriage, it was just that, given who he was, he wasn’t sure what woman it would be fair for him to marry. Either he didn’t think they’d be happy with some of his habits, or they ended up having no interest in each other outside of friendship as had happened with Ashara Dayne. He still wasn’t sure who had been sadder about that revelation: his mother for losing that match, or Elia for losing the possibility of her best friend becoming her sister in truth.)

The only thing that had him a bit worried for his brother was the fact that his mother had not sent him much information about this Mellario at all. In fact, it sounded like Loreza had just given up and agreed to the first match Doran seemed even halfway interested in. He couldn’t blame her given how he had long wondered if Doran was even interested in romance or sex at all, but he was still a little wary of all of this. His mother had never believed that her younger children should be barred from learning how to rule even if they would hopefully only ever be a pillar of support to their brother or spouse, so he knew that whoever became the Princess Consort would have many duties they would have to take up.

Oberyn was not religious. He had seen too much hypocrisy shown by those that said they believed and yet ignored all of the actual teachings of their religion. The was one thing he would pray for without any sort of hesitation, however, and that would be the happiness of his family. He truly hoped that this Mellario would be the wife his brother deserved.

The final piece of news was possibly the most welcome one as Doran’s wedding was still a few months away. Sylvia, his uncle Lewyn’s paramour, was pregnant, meaning he would soon have an undoubtedly adorable baby cousin in a few months. His aunt and uncle were apparently bickering over what the kid would be, for they had agreed that Lewyn would name a daughter while Sylvia would name a son. No one truly cared though, for even just from this one letter he could sense his mother’s happiness at having more children in the family.

All of that was reason enough to request that he come home- something he had already been thinking about the past few days since Moraq's court got news that a Dothraki Khalasar was making trouble yet again, not to mention the certainty he felt that Mehmed would be making a final attempt for the throne soon and didn’t need a foreign royal hanging around while he did it- but something about his mother’s wording merited a closer look.

As he had thought, his mother did have more to say that she did not wish prying eyes to see, even with the fact that the Martells had long since put much of their correspondence in a dialect of Rhoynish known only to their family and trusted allies, and upon deciphering the encrypted message Oberyn had one simple thought:

The Darkling family, the lords of Duskendale, was full of complete and utter _idiots._

Perhaps they were frustrated that Duskendale had long since been supplanted by King’s Landing as the area's major trading port and wished to bring greater prosperity to their city. He could understand that, as he himself wished to see Dorne become even greater, which was why he was so insistent that trade with these countries in Essos would only benefit their country, but he would never think to do something as idiotic as what they did.

Seriously, who thought that kidnapping the _king_ and holding him hostage until Tywin fucking Lannister, the brains behind Castamore, agreed to their terms would do anything other than get them and their whole family brutally murdered? Not in the least considering how Aerys had been becoming more and more unstable over the years according to Loreza’s contacts. The man who had once protested his parents forcing him to marry his own sister and yet had later repeatedly berated his wife for failing to provide his son a Targaryen blooded bride, among other crimes, would only get worse if he lived through-

Oberyn’s eyes widened as a thought occurred to him. He softly let out a drawn out and vile Rhoynish curse as he followed that train of thought.

Aerys wanted a Targaryen bride for his son. The only female Targaryen left was Queen Rhaella. The closest Targaryen relatives were the Baratheons, and the only children that family had were male. Which meant that due to absolutely terrible luck and decision making meant that the only available woman with any real amount of Targaryen blood was-

The younger prince of Dorne let out an extremely long string of curses in all of the languages he knew. Which was many. It was relieving- sometimes one just needed to curse- but unfortunately didn’t solve the problem.

The problem being the fact that as soon as Aerys realized that there was no other option that he would deign to accept, he would turn his eyes to Elia. His older sister. Who did not and would never deserve to deal with a madman or the distant and unhappy marriage he was certain that Rhaegar would give her.

The only way to avoid an order from the king without massive problems was to have Elia be married before any came. Which meant that if he wanted to keep his sister safe and happy he would have to become the thing he hated most and… _play matchmaker._

Oberyn had to resist the urge to pull out his precious stash of Dornish Red at that realization. He had done so well at scaring off any and all suitors over the years. This felt like a betrayal of everything he had accomplished in his nineteen years!

Oh well. He would do far worse for his family to be happy, this was just an unfortunate price he would have to pay.

Once he had finished mourning the loss of that particular thing he had been proud to be known for, he started actually thinking about possible grooms. The results were not good.

Princess Loreza Martell would not let her only daughter marry lower than an heir, and as far as he was aware, there were not exactly many options with that criteria. They were all either married, betrothed, too young, lived too far north, or made the mistake of farting and took themselves out of the running.

(Sometimes he pitied Baelor Hightower. He hadn’t been a half bad guy, just one with atrocious timing.)

Unfortunately, that took out most, if not all, of the options in Westeros. Either he’d have his work cut out for him trying to convince their mother that Elia did not have to marry an heir- something he didn’t think that Elia herself would be enthusiastic about given how Arthur Dayne had chosen to betray everyone and join the Kingsguard- or they’d have to make a second marriage out of Dorne.

Oberyn startled as he realized a possible solution. He’d have to check first, but if it worked he knew that Elia would actually have a husband who had even the slightest chance of deserving her, for it would be more than a little enticing for their family.

With that thought, he quickly penned a message and sent a servant off, thanking whatever was listening that Lady Mara had chosen to visit her son at this particular time.

* * *

Oberyn was both relieved and annoyed at how quickly the servant came back telling him that Lady Mara would see him now. Relieved because now he couldn’t talk himself out of it and regret it for the rest of his life, and yet annoyed because he had no idea what to even say.

Regardless of whether he knew what to say or not, Lady Mara reminded him too much of his own mother and one did not keep Loreza Martell waiting without a good reason, so he went as soon as he got the message.

The sultana was waiting for him in her solar with some light refreshments and wine that he happily took. He was going to need it to get through this conversation. Too bad it still wasn’t good Dornish wine, but his supply was running low, and he really didn’t want to run out since if he was heading home he wasn’t going to get anymore, even if it wouldn’t be too bad since Moraqi wine wasn’t absolutely terrible like the shit that the Reach tried to pass off as good wine.

After the appropriate amount of formality since Lady Mara was the sultana of this empire and apparently one couldn’t dispense with the theatrics unless one was family no matter where you went, they mercifully got down to business with none of the ridiculous small talk he was not in any way in the mood for.

“I was surprised to receive your message. I cannot recall another time that you asked to see me alone in the past year. Has something happened and you wish to deprive us of your delightful presence?”

Not for the first time, Oberyn hoped that she never met his own mother, though it was a faint hope at this point because the more Lady Mara heard about Princess Loreza, the more she seemed to want to meet her. Though that might also be because both him and Mehmed were wary of them becoming friends…

“I probably am considering how my older brother somehow found someone he’s willing to marry, but that’s not actually what I want to talk to you about. I need to ask you something.”

That got him a raised eyebrow. “And what do you wish to ask me that requires you to pull the same expression condemned men tend to sport before they are marched to their executions?”

Oberyn quickly did his best to make his expression more neutral. As he hadn’t even noticed he was scowling in the first place, he doubted that he had much success.

He took a large gulp of his wine before answering. “I’m not the person who would be deciding, and this may go nowhere if she doesn’t want it, but…” he took in a deep breath, all but having to force his next words out, “would it even be possible for my sister Elia to marry into your family?”

That was the most outright surprise he had ever seen on the sultana’s face. He couldn’t blame her. If someone had told him three hours ago that he was going to try and see if a betrothal for his beloved older sister was possible, he would have laughed in their face and reminded them of the amount of effort he had put into scaring away any and all possible suitors.

Lady Mara quickly got over her surprise- or at least, managed to wipe it from her face- to instead stare at him calculatingly. “You fear that your sister will be forced to marry someone undeserving of her.”

Despite himself, Oberyn snorted. “As far as I’m concerned, no one deserves her. Some just come closer than the rest and I would rather see her with someone that has the slightest chance of making her happy than someone who’s family would make her miserable.”

She stared at him for a long moment before asking, “You ask this for your sister’s happiness? Not for any political purpose?”

“That’s my mother and brother’s jobs. I would rather make sure the person she marries is someone who wouldn’t be despicable, and I guess that Mehmed somewhat fits that criteria.”

“That might be the highest praise I have ever heard someone give my son. I shall certainly pass your great accolades along.”

He didn’t bother to hide his scowl this time. “Just tell me whether I should look somewhere else.”

Lady Mara stared at him for several long moments, an unreadable expression on her face as she sipped at her wine.

“I had thought about recalling Jade and betrothing her to you.”

 _That_ was not something he had ever thought he would hear. “What?” he asked incredulously.

“I thought you might be surprised,” she smirked, clearly amused at his shock. “You may be a bit of rouge, but I believe she would be happy in Dorne. Alas, I am selfish and do not wish to give her up yet, not when I have been deprived of my daughter for longer than I wish due to the actions of despicable men, though they, with the gods’ graces, shall soon be taken care of. Not only that, but I feel that your mother would rather you make a Dornish match.”

Still completely befuddled, Oberyn nodded absently. “I believe she would, but… why would you want to marry your daughter to _me?”_ He knew that he was not someone that could be considered husband material. His eyes strayed far too often for that, and even if he wouldn’t dream of doing anything without full consent from a permanent partner, he still didn’t know who would be insane enough to actually want him for more than just a night. Even if he was great in bed according to people other than just him.

Lady Mara just shook her head, a fond smile on her lips. “The fact that you cannot see it almost proves my point, given how fond you are of boasting over the tiniest things.

“But the fact remains that, yes, it would be possible for someone in your family to marry into mine, albeit if you wish for your sister to marry Mehmed, you may have to wait at least a year before proceeding with talks of betrothing them if all goes as well as we hope.”

That was relieving at least. He didn’t want to see his sister go so far away, but at least if this ends up being the option chosen he knew Mehmed himself wouldn’t hurt Elia.

That did still leave one last thing that worried him even with the sultana’s blessing, however. “Would Elia be treated well by your court given those damned dragons that couldn’t handle not ruling an entire continent?” After all, one thing he had found out during all of his travels was that, while far from the only problem Essosi had with the continent, the Targaryens had not exactly made the best of names for themselves in Essos, especially in recent years.

“No. She may be looked at warily, but it would be from the simple fact that she would be a foreign bride not from Yi Ti or Leng. It would have nothing to do with the dragons that lounge on their throne of swords. No, that may soon not be a factor in how any from Dorne will be seen at all.”

That got Oberyn to sit up straight, hands involuntarily clenching into fists before he forced them to relax. “What do you mean?” he asked suspiciously.

Lady Mara hadn’t meant to say that much if the minute press of her lips together was any indication. Regardless, she sighed and answered, “Some things that the astrologers have been seeing… nothing is clear, but something may happen soon, and the seemingly united seven kingdoms of Westeros may soon be no more, for it’s southern-most nation may leave to form their own path after having been pushed too far.”

Oberyn sighed, running a hand over his face and forcing himself not to curse out loud. Dorne had never sat well with having to pay even the slightest deference to a king. They had not had one for two years shy of a thousand, not since Princess Nymeria of Ny Sar led the Rhoynar to the sands of Dorne and united it under House Nymeros Martell. But what could force their hands and make them leave?

Then again… would it have to be something too terrible given the timing? There was no possible way that the closer they got to the anniversary that their people wouldn’t start looking at what they were getting from the northerners and find it… lacking. He himself would most likely be right with them. If the dragons did anything to insult Dorne during this period, his family’s hands would be tied and they would be forced to call for independence for fear of their people rebelling against them.

He finally sighed again, leaning back and taking a long sip of his wine. “That’s going to be a headache, isn’t it.”

“It will have to involve politics. Politics by definition gives one a permanent headache.”

He had to chuckle at that. He was very glad he wasn’t the heir to Dorne because if he had bad enough headaches just from the duties he had now, Doran would have it far worse.

“Have your astrologers seen anything else I should know about?”

“Why yes. You should go to Volantis on your return to Dorne.”

“Why?”

Lady Mara didn’t answer, instead choosing to stare at him with a slight smirk tugging at her lips, which could mean that she knew and wouldn’t tell him no matter what he tried, or that she had no idea either and wished to mess with him. Either option was reason enough for him to narrow his eyes at her in annoyed suspicion.

After a brief standoff, the sultana turned back to her goblet to refill it. “If you wish, I will suggest the option to Mehmed when he returns victorious, and we can proceed from there, providing you get your sister and family’s blessing.”

“I’m insulted you think that I wouldn’t.”

“Who says I thought that?”

“It felt implied.”

“That is your own interpretation. I should hope that your sister does not assume untrue interpretations as you do.”

Rolling his eyes but choosing to humor Lady Mara’s request for knowledge, Oberyn started relaying some of his favorite childhood stories of his family. Only the ones that made Elia look good, of course. This entire conversation was to try and not scare off a suitor for once, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not expect this chapter to make me suddenly decide that Oberyn is surprisingly insecure in his personal life. Or at least his romantic life. And this is before he starts collecting the sand snakes too...
> 
> On a related note, I kind of wish that there were Oberyn/Ashara content out there. It actually kind of feels that it would somehow work despite my general opinion being that they're literally just good friends, and would be fun to explore the changes that could happen. Oh well, I'm not about to start writing that during this no matter what.
> 
> Dornish Kingsguard- Looking at the wiki, Arthur seems to have joined by 276, given he's mentioned as winning a tourney to celebrate Viserys' birth. Oberyn found this out from a letter from Elia, and didn't exactly take it well.  
> Lewyn, on the other hand, I can't find any indication on when he joined, so I'm just going to assume that he joined once Elia's betrothal was finalized, to protect his niece. Which was why everyone else just kind of looked the other way regarding his paramour since he had made it pretty clear he wouldn't have joined otherwise.
> 
> Duskendale really did happen in 277. I was surprised at that, I thought it would be before Viserys was born instead of after. Looking at his page though... Aerys was already going downhill on the slope of madness by then. Duskendale was just a sudden cliff that took him straight down from what I can tell. Either way, more than enough for Oberyn to be wary of Elia getting married to that family. His feelings on Rhaegar himself- those will be explained next chapter.
> 
> I actually did think about Oberyn just showing back up to Dorne with Jade. Unfortunately, I did not want to go into complete crack fic territory, and it would just literally be for the funny. Plus I love the Sand Snakes and do not want to deprive the world of their delightfullness and Tyene and Sarella wouldn't happen in that scenario.
> 
> By the way, am I seriously the only person to have noticed it really has been about a century since the Rhoynar came to Dorne according to the wiki and do something regarding this? It really seems like something that should be relevant...
> 
> Next chapter: Our favorite sun princess shows up! We also find out that baby snakes are adorable!


	4. Homecomings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oberyn's homecoming through Elia's eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that when they refer to the north, they don't mean The North, as in the part of Westeros past the neck, unless it's capitalized. They just mean literally anything up past the Red Mountains.

**277, Sunspear**

It was unseemly for a princess to all but run through the halls towards the courtyard, especially one of her age, but who could blame Elia? Oberyn, her beloved younger brother, was finally coming home after three years of wandering around Essos and giving their mother a headache when he decided to go to an island empire across the Summer Sea they had very little trade with, despite one of their ancestors having been a merchant who hailed from there and was well remembered for having provided them with one of the staples of Dornish cuisine.

Not that their mother had wasted any time at all in rectifying that situation to their country’s benefit. Loreza and Doran had both locked themselves inside the princess’ solar for hours at a time to go over what they could trade with Moraq and later it’s neighboring countries, with input from Elia herself, their uncle, and their other advisors. Their healers especially were glad for this trade, what with all of the new herbs and techniques they were getting from the east, some of which had already began to soothe their people.

Doran had even left to tour some of the other cities in Essos for the specific purpose of seeing if they had anything to trade that they had not taken advantage of yet, and his trip had proved to be fruitful in a variety of ways. Not in the least being the fact that Doran had shown that there was in fact one person in the world he found attractive, to everyone’s complete and utter shock. She hadn’t thought it possible and definitely wished to meet this Mellario, to finally figure out what her solemn brother found attractive.

He wouldn’t be the only one to arrive from Essos with a lovely lady, either. Oberyn, for reasons known only to himself, had stopped at Volantis before coming home, and had soon sent a letter telling them that they would have to make room in the nursery several months earlier than expected for his two-year-old daughter, Nymeria.

That revelation was quite possibly the thing that had made Loreza Martell the happiest out of anything else that had happened in the past year. She had never outright stated it, but it was clear to Elia- and their entire family and more than likely all of Dorne- that the current ruling princess loved children. Her pressuring Doran to marry had not come only from the fact that he was the heir, even though that had still been a major factor. She longed for children to fill the nursery, which was clear from the fact that she had kept trying for more children of her own even after all of the grief she had in carrying them. If she had been happy to find that she would soon be getting a niece or nephew, she was equally as ecstatic to find she had a granddaughter, if not more so.

But that wasn’t the biggest thing to her. Her beloved baby brother was _finally_ coming home.

One of her earliest memory was of lying in bed sick from yet another illness, wishing more than anything that she could go play in the gardens with her friends instead of having to curl up in bed with a fever.

Even back then, Oberyn had too much energy to sit still for long, preferring to run around and give their caretakers no end of grief. Grief that she admittedly helped with and was punished enough for, but still. In this memory however, he had crept into her room even though she knew that their parents had told him to leave her alone and crawled into bed with her, entertaining her with some made up story while she could barely move.

She couldn’t even remember what the story had been about, nor could she remember how long they had just been cuddling together, but she did remember their father coming to check up on her and Oberyn stubbornly refusing to leave because she needed someone to spend time with even before Maron could get out a single word. That had earned him one of their father's rare smiles as he him for being such a good brother before he kissed her on the forehead and pulled up a chair to hear his son’s story.

Oberyn may be dangerous to their enemies and well deserving of the moniker he had been given even though the situation had been much different than many had assumed, but to her he would never be anything but the caring little brother that would stay with her even during her lowest points.

It was due to this that she trusted his judgement on people, for she knew him well enough to know that he was extremely perceptive and good at reading people. And from the letters he had sent her in the past year, she was very interested in one person he had met, and wished to hear details from him in person.

She wouldn’t have to wait long to ask. She had been awoken early in the morning to find that her brother’s ship had arrived a whole day earlier than expected. While that unfortunately meant that their uncle was still at the Water Gardens with Sylvia as she was spending her pregnancy there, and Doran wouldn’t arrive for a while yet, she personally would not complain, nor did she believe that their mother would.

As expected, by the time Elia got down to the courtyard, regardless of how she had hurried, Loreza Martell was already waiting, with every appearance of having been there for quite awhile. Looking over her mother, she had to keep in a sigh of relief at how the current ruling princess still looked as healthy as she had been since trade had picked up. She did still very much look her age, but with a health that had been lacking but a year before.

If Oberyn was proud of nothing else in his life- and she knew that would never happen, her younger brother had more than a little bit of an ego, much to their family's chagrin- he would be of the fact that their healers had quickly taken advantage of trade with Great Moraq to create better remedies for various afflictions, with their Princess herself showing proof of their effectiveness.

“How much longer?” Elia asked as soon as she reached her mother’s side.

“I sent for you as soon as I received confirmation that it was Oberyn’s ship in the harbor. He should be here at any minute.”

The Ruling Princess was right, for if she squinted she could see a group approaching in the distance, forcing her to try and contain her excitement rather than rocking back and forth on her heels in anticipation.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the party finally made it through the gates, Oberyn in the front, a little girl grasping tightly to his hand. Elia couldn’t hold back any longer; as soon as they actually got through, she ran to her brother.

Oberyn caught her with his free hand, pulling her to him just as much as she clung to him. She laughed, clutching onto him and burying her face into his shirt as he leaned down and buried his own in her hair.

Elia had no idea how to say just how glad she was to see him after all these years. She didn’t even try, for she knew that there were none. She knew that he knew by the way that he was clutching onto her just as tight.

Instead of trying, she just told him, “You weren’t supposed to get taller.”

He just laughed at her, the traitor. “You got it wrong. I didn’t get taller, you just got smaller.”

She scoffed, still not making any move to release him until a small voice asked, “Papa?”

They finally released each other so that Elia could take a look at the little girl with rich olive skin and black hair, and the same viper’s eyes that Oberyn had inherited from their own mother. “Is this my niece?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

Oberyn nodded, a soft smile on his face as he looked down at the little girl still clutching onto his hand. “Princess Elia, may I present to you my daughter, the Lady Nymeria?”

At that, Nymeria finally let go of his hand, dropping into a proper curtsey. “It is nice to meet you, Aunt Elia!” she said, being careful to enunciate every single word in the way that two-year-olds tended to do.

It took far too much effort for Elia not to squeal at how adorable her niece is. She suddenly understood just why their mother had been so insistent that Doran marry and have children because if he produced children even a fraction as cute as this particular niece, he had been depriving the world of a joy it desperately needed.

In lieu of squeeing, Elia instead smiled and curtsied back to her niece. “It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Lady Nym,” she replied, swooping down to kiss the little girl on the top of her head and receiving a giggle for her actions.

While she was greeting her niece, Oberyn had walked over to their mother and gave her a deep bow, nothing revealing how hesitant he was unless one knew him well. Without any hesitation, Loreza Martell crossed the remaining distance between them and reached up to cup his face in her hands, giving him a soft smile and saying something before wrapping him in a hug of her own that was gladly returned.

Trying to give them some privacy even though she had no hope of hearing them from this distance, Elia turned back to her niece, quickly noticing that she had something hanging off of her belt that a two-year-old should not have. “Is that a knife on your belt?”

Nymeria beamed at her, unsheathing the knife and holding it carefully in her hands. “Papa gave me a… bu- bl- blunt one!” she said proudly. “If I don’t stab any dummy that does not deserves it, he’s giving me lessons!”

Elia was saved from having to reply to that by the rest of their family rejoining them, Loreza’s laughter catching their attention as she looked fondly at her son. “You certainly are your father’s son,” she teased him, the same bittersweet tone in her voice that arose every time she mentioned her beloved and much-missed consort. “Now, is this lovely lady my granddaughter?”

Nymeria blushed at that, but gave her grandmother an equally as perfect curtsey as the one that she had given Elia herself earlier. “It is nice to meet you as well, Abuela Loreza!”

Loreza Martell laughed, her face full of more joy than Elia had seen in years, before kneeling down in front of her granddaughter, opening her arms in an invitation that Nymeria immediately took. Once she was back on her feet with her granddaughter in her arms, their mother smiled at them. “Oberyn, please take the time to rest after your journey. I will entertain my lovely granddaughter until we all take our lunch. Please meet me in my solar for that.”

Oberyn scoffed at that statement, good naturedly rolling his eyes with no real venom or even annoyance behind it. “I see who you’re happiest to see, and it’s not me.”

“When your brother comes back, take it up with him, for he is the one that has refused to give me a grandchild.”

Elia chuckled at her brother’s exaggeratingly wounded look before walking over to him and taking his arm. “My dear little brother, I took the opportunity to redecorate your room for you, and I would be sad not to see your reaction to my handiwork.”

Judging by the look Oberyn gave her, he knew exactly what she actually wanted, but all he did was scoff. “Should I be worried?”

She just gave him a mysterious smile at that, the same one she had learned sitting on their mother’s knee throughout their childhood.

* * *

After the disappointing revelation that Oberyn actually appreciated her having sewed red vipers into all of his curtains and bedding and then the whole fiasco where he tried to insist that relaxing meant that he got to take his shirt off despite having company and just generally proved that some things would never change, Elia found herself reclining on her baby brother’s balcony, watching the sun climb higher in the sky and snacking on the fruit that had been brought up for them.

“Would you prefer me to just ask you the questions I have, or to lure you in with all the lovely gossip you have been deprived of these past three years?” she asked, smirking at her brother.

Oberyn just groaned at that, seemingly trying to melt into the comfortable chaise he was lounging on. (With a shirt on, as her stubbornness had prevailed against her brother’s on this glorious day.) “How about you just tell me what fun you’ve witnessed and not force me to recount everything four times?”

“Four?”

“You, Mama, our uncle, and Doran whenever the last two finally show up.”

“Three. Mama has already sent word to the Water Gardens that you have arrived, and by providing her with a granddaughter you’ve managed to defer her questioning until later, when our uncle should arrive.”

“Still three more times than I want. Aunt Sylvia coming with him?”

“Wouldn’t make sense for her to wait until tomorrow for your homecoming feast if her lover is coming now, so undoubtedly.”

That got another groan from him. She had no sympathy for him. He wasn’t the one that had to plan said feast. He just had to show up. He didn’t have to deal with organizing this on top of one for when Doran returned with his bride and having to start making preparations for the wedding of the heir to the Sunchair. Their mother did help, but much of her time was spent ruling Dorne, so she was the one to do much of the preparations.

Before she could actually say anything to her brother about that, he just sighed and said, “Just get your questions out already so I can take a nap before the Princess of Dorne decides to grill me all afternoon once she’s done claiming my daughter as her own.”

Elia snorted at that. “You forget how much Abuela Dorea spoiled us when we were younger, and Nymeria is the first grandchild she has.”

She couldn’t help but notice the tense set of her brother’s shoulders after she said that. Was he worried about his daughter’s status? No one would care that he had a natural daughter. He wasn’t married or even betrothed, and none would dare to mistreat the daughter of a Martell, let alone one as infamous as he already was.

Deciding to leave that topic for another day, the only daughter of House Nymeros Martell took in a deep breath before asking, “Would you believe a marriage to a man of Great Moraq to be a benefit for our house?”

That got her the most flabbergasted look she had seen grace Oberyn’s face in years as he shot up to stare at her. “What?”

“Would you believe a mar-“

“No, I heard you. Just… what?”

Elia didn’t know why she expected any other reaction. Sighing again, she responded, “Why is this so shocking to you? You send back all these letters speaking of how much Moraq has to offer our nation and of the character of the prince you fully believe will take their throne, and you do not expect me to pick up on it?”

She waited for her brother to find some sort of excuse as to why Prince Mehmed was not a good suitor for her, that he had some sort of problem that he had failed to disclose in any of his letters. Instead, he proved that her brother could surprise her still, despite them being so close from the moment he had been born.

“There goes the speech I've been working on for the last couple of months on why Mehmed is a good option for you…”

Now it was Elia’s turn to look flabbergasted. “What? You aren’t going to try and scare this possible suitor away?” she asked, having to resist the urge to run over to him and make sure he wasn’t feverish.

“Is that really so shocking?”

_“Yes.”_

Oberyn looked like he wanted to protest that, but thought better about it. “Look. If it’s him or the damned incestuous and insane dragons, I’d rather you marry the man who actually gives a damn about something other than himself.”

She couldn’t say that the adjectives he had used were wrong, but… “What is wrong with Prince Rhaegar?” she asked, for she knew they had met a few years ago when mother had sent him with Doran to a tourney in the Stormlands and suddenly realized that she had never asked about his impression of the future king after that.

Oberyn had a habit of meeting someone and immediately forming an opinion of them. An opinion that, while extremely difficult to overcome, was more than often accurate as to one’s character. It offered their mother and brother no end of grief at times, but even they took his observations into account despite always attempting to lecture him that first impressions could be misleading.

Oberyn scowled and looked out at the scenery. “I don’t think he knows what happiness even is.”

Elia rose an eyebrow at that. “I wouldn’t imagine his family to give him much to be happy for, but going so far?”

“You know the saying that writers love, of a smile not reaching one’s eyes? Rhaegar’s truly never did, and he gave out far too many of those false smiles even when not greeting the noxious nobility that live in the north. Where another man would just keep his face neutral, he tried to instead smile as if to try and convince everyone that he was the perfect prince.”

False smiles? _That_ was what Oberyn was basing his opinion off of? Even for him that was odd.

Though… was it? Was it truly? They had made fun of Doran’s solemn nature many times, but never had they once thought that he had no idea how to live happily even when tragedy struck. While Doran did have the advantage of growing up with parents that loved each other and him, the fact remained that he had still grown up with the weight of a nation on his shoulders, the responsibility of being the future Prince of Dorne always dogging his footsteps. Rhaegar had been in much the same position from birth, if grander in scale, and yet this was the impression that her perceptive brother had of him?

Elia took in a deep, steadying breath after that revelation. “So, you wish to protest a marriage that would bring another Dornish queen to the throne, with an heir of Martell blood, solely for the fact that you do not trust the heir?”

Her brother’s reply was so soft that she had to strain to hear it. “That, and I don’t want to see you suffer from a madman as your goodfather.”

Elia wasn’t even aware of her movements until she had settled next to her brother and wrapped him in her arms yet again. Her heart was just so full with affection for him, at his wish to see her happy no matter what.

After a moment, she pulled back and asked, “And Prince Mehmed would not give me that?”

“Believe me, Sultan Mehmet Han is far away from madness. He can lead armies well and can be ruthless to his enemies, but he prefers peace above all else. If it weren’t for scheming advisors, he would have retired a few years ago.”

“And you have written extensively about Prince Mehmed himself.”

Oberyn shrugged, looking a little annoyed at having to agree that any man would be a good match for her, even if he himself wished to agree that it was. Years of scaring away suitors did not go away so easily it seemed. “He’s not some knight in shining armor. Probably as far away as you can get in some ways. If his father is ruthless to his enemies, Mehmed himself might be worse at times, even if he would never turn it against an ally who has not betrayed him. If you two married, he wouldn’t stray from you, not unless it was something that the both of you agreed on. He has too much respect for his mother not to.”

“His mother?”

“Sultana Mara isn’t his birth mother. She was not able to give her husband children, and so they came to an agreement that she would choose women for him to bed to give them the children she could not. I have no idea of the details and I will not ask, but she was the one to choose whether or not to have this agreement, and if her son did not give any wife he took the same respect, she would take him to task no matter what kind of position he holds."

“And no one gave her grief for not bearing any children herself?”

“No one that didn’t want their tongue cut off.”

Elia sighed, looking away at the horizon yet again as she admitted, “Finding out that it does not matter to the Moraqi if their next ruler was the son of the previous one so long as they bear the same name… is it wrong that that was what first made me interested in a match there, even if I doubt that I could ever do what she did, no matter how much I would want children myself?”

This time, it was Oberyn that initiated the hug. “No. I just wish that things were different.”

Different. How much things would different that had their older brothers lived through infancy, had her health been better, had so much been changed before their birth…

She shook her head to clear those thoughts. It would not do to spend time dwelling on things that were not in any way their fault, no matter how strongly she felt the absences at times, even so long after.

“This match does have at least one other advantage,” she spoke after a minute, straightening up and looking into her brother’s eyes.

“Oh?”

If anyone could see her now, the smile she gave while speaking her next words would remind one that, while they always compared her house to snakes, there was another comparison that was even more apt.

They always forget that House Nymeros Martell had _two_ weapons on their sigil, not one. And as Elia had occasionally been called the Sun Princess, they forget that the sun could just as easily be an enemy as well as an ally.

“With an empire on our side, I would love to see the fools past the mountains attempt to yet again refuse to give Dorne the respect that she deserves.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We don't ever get a death date for the former princess of Dorne. All we know is that she died before Elia married Rhaegar. That being said, as we get no indication of what killed her, I'm having Loreza Martell having been revitalized by new remedies they get from trade with Moraq and is going to live several years longer than what we get in canon.
> 
> Yes, Doran's trip to Essos happened in canon, and I'm not trying to make out that it hadn't. This time around, however, he had even more reasons to go than in canon.
> 
> I also have no idea if there's any sort of basis for it, but I do want to imagine that Loreza loves children. She had a healthy heir, yet she still kept trying for children despite the grief that came from it in the around ten years before Elia was born.
> 
> Look me in the eyes that Oberyn would not see his daughter being sad from being separated from the only family she's known and not try to cheer her up by offering to let her see his weapons. And yes, he did get that from his dad- Maron Gargalen tried to give Doran a spear even before he could sit up. Loreza was not amused at all.
> 
> For my own sanity, I'm just going to say that Rhoynish is based on Spanish. It won't come up a lot at all, usually just in regards to the occasional title.
> 
> By Abuela Dorea, they mean their paternal grandmother. Oberyn canonically named one of his daughters after his sister, and if we have his mom's name be Loreza, that's two of them, so why not more? It won't come up in this, but Obella is named in honor of one of Ellaria's relations.
> 
> Duskendale is still going on just so you know, it looks like it lasted half a year. It's only about month four of the siege. More on the outcome of that will be shown in a couple of chapters because it will be worrying for them, to say the least.
> 
> Next chapter: Doran finally remembers just how annoying his younger siblings can be.


	5. Arrival from Norvos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doran arrives home with his bride and remembers how annoying his younger siblings can be, though he does get some revenge via his niece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said that I wasn't going to post early often again, but there is the email thing going on here on Ao3 tomorrow and I wanted to get it out before then. Plus I might actually like the middle of the week updates more than the weekend updates, so there is that as well.
> 
> This is a bit of a filler chapter, but I felt like we needed a chapter just of the family together before the plot fully starts.

Loreza Martell would admit, if only to herself, that when her eldest had written that he had wished to marry a noblewoman from Norvos that he had grown fond of- loved, rather, was what her solemn son meant by that- she had been scared for her son and his future reign.

Who could blame her, however? She was of the same generation as Aegon the Unlikely’s children, the same children that had willfully ignored their duty to their family and kingdom and chose love over any sort of stability. The only one that ever did their duty was Rhaelle Baratheon, the youngest child, and she herself had never been given a choice to do otherwise after the actions her elder siblings had taken.

Their folly had even continued on for another generation. For the sake of a prophecy, Jaehaerys and Shaera- siblings both! Their actions were worse in her eyes than the former Prince Duncan’s were, for he at least had willingly given up his claim to the throne for his folly, but those two siblings had bought into the idea that the Targaryens were above mere laws of men and never showed any guilt for of their actions- had all but dragged their children to the Sept and forced them to marry against their wishes.

She admittedly had never held any fondness for Aerys, for even before he became king and his madness became apparent he had been a spoiled brat, but she would have wished that fate on him.

And Rhaella… oh Rhaella. The bright little girl she had thought of as her own daughter… she wished she could have done more for her, rather than be forced to stand aside by the circumstances and let her light be stifled under the tyranny of her own family.

She and her own husband, Maron Gargalen, had not loved each other at the beginning. He was the man she chose, yes, but at the time they had only been friends, and had both discussed what their responsibilities would be, coming to the agreement that if they felt nothing more after they had a couple of children, they would look into other options if they both agreed. That had not happened, for they had quickly become more to each other even before she found out they would soon have their first child, and had only grown closer during the years of grief they suffered. Maron had quickly become her rock for all the years of her marriage, and even though her brother and son had immediately stepped up in support after the sickness that had taken him away from them far too soon, she still felt his absence dearly, even years later.

Loreza would fully admit that part of her reasoning for pushing Doran to marry was selfish. She still felt the loss of all her children that had never had the chance to grow up, and if there was one good thing to come from the incident with Yronwood it was the creation of her first adorable granddaughter, who she loved dearly even if she could already tell that she would take after her father and no doubt cause much mischief.

That was not the only reason, however, nor even just the fact that he needed an heir, even if she knew that one of her other children would have trueborn children to be their brother’s heirs if needed.

No, what she wanted most for her son was for him not be forced to bear the burden of his crown alone. Siblings were a great balm to have, yes, but they could not fully replace the help and support a consort would bring.

Love was all well and good, but love did not mean that one could be the person that their partner needed, especially when the partner had a position as the one her son would one day inherit.

She just had to hope and pray that this Mellario of Norvos would be the person Doran needs, for how could she refuse him marriage to the first woman he had any interest in? Especially one from one of Norvos’ premier families, who could help bring more trade and prosperity to Dorne in the same way that Oberyn’s adventures had?

A few years ago she would have worried about the future Princess Consort being a foreign bride, for all of the consorts since Princess Daenerys Martell had been from their lands, but now, while it was not quite as ideal as Doran having chosen a Dornish bride, she was finding herself relieved that Mellario was not from above the Red Mountains.

That was one subject she would need to bring up with her son soon, though it could wait for a little while longer, for she knew that Mellario would need her husband’s support in these first few critical days in a new land.

The homecoming of the heir to the Sunchair with his chosen bride was a far more formal occasion than she would wish. She would prefer to take the measure of her new gooddaughter- with her blessing they had wed in a small ceremony for her parents before leaving Norvos in addition to the larger one that would take place here in Dorne in the coming moon- in a more private setting with just their family, but she also could not deny that seeing how she dealt with the court from the start was a boon she could not discard lightly.

As it was, she had managed to keep the full court from the throne room. No need to make it even more difficult for Mellario than it already was. The ones that were there were more than enough to tell everyone of their first impression of their future princess, and had the boon of being somewhat more honest in their gossip than a few of their peers.

Loreza sat in her customary place on the throne that had once belonged to their revered ancestress, Nymeria of the Rhoyne herself, dressed in the traditional colors and fashion of her house. She was able to dispense with enough of the formality to wear a simple golden circlet instead of a coronet, and neither of her youngest children nor her brother had one on. No need to make this more formal than needed.

Lewyn was to her left, on the other side of the empty throne that had once belonged to Mors Martell, Sylvia standing next to him, with a couple of servants standing off into the shadows just in case anything happened. She still had a little more than three months to go before her child would be born, but none of them were willing to take any chances.

Her two youngest children were on her right, Elia closest to her with Oberyn next to her, his daughter clutching his hand and watching everything with wide eyes.

Perhaps some would censor them for letting a bastard and a woman unmarried to the father of her child stand on the dais with the family, but they had never seen it that way. Perhaps she could not give her granddaughter or niece or nephew their name or titles as things stood, but that did not mean that they were in any way not part of House Nymeros Martell, and their people would do well to remember that.

They did not have to wait long before Doran and Mellario were announced, and Loreza was able to lay eyes on her new gooddaughter.

Mellario was a regal beauty, she wouldn’t deny that at all. Short in stature and fairly curvy, she had an exotic beauty not often found in Dorne, though she wore their fashions well, even if she had chosen to wear them more conservatively than usual for their nation. Loreza could also tell that the tales of Norvoshi women wearing wigs were true, though if one was not looking for it it was fairly hard to tell. She hoped for her gooddaughter’s sake that she found some ways to reconcile her beliefs with Dorne’s heat, as wigs were not common at all in their lands. Perhaps veils would suffice as a substitute when traveling?

The Norvoshi woman’s bearing was the most intriguing part of her. Somewhat haughty, yes, but still with a more noble bearing that she hadn’t quite expected despite the letters Doran had sent back. She would reserve her judgement until she had interacted more with her gooddaughter, but at the moment she was pleased that Mellario seemed to be more than just a blushing bride in front of the eyes of the court.

Once they had made it to the dais, her son bowed to her as Mellario curtsied, Doran keeping a hand on her arm during the entire production in support. Interesting. Though he had never had a serious relationship before this, he had escorted his sister and other women to feasts before, and yet he had never acted like this, even when Elia had been weak from a bout of sickness when she was younger. Was it a silent support in the face of so much new for his bride, or something else? They had already married in one ceremony after all, so it would not be a surprise if there would be yet another member of their growing family in the coming year.

Not letting any of her ruminations show on her face, Loreza rose from her seat and smiled at the pair, lifting her arms in a sign for them to rise. “Welcome home, my son, and welcome to Dorne, Princess Mellario. I am most pleased to find you well after your journey.”

Mellario gave her a smile in return- it was slightly nervous, but she did very well at hiding it. “I thank you for your welcome, Princess Loreza,” she replied, voice fairly thick with an accent, but still clear and understandable.

After a few more pleasantries, Loreza dismissed the court and led her family towards their private solar.

To no one’s surprise, as soon as they had all settled down, Oberyn broke the silence with a simple question.

“So, brother, do you have anything to announce?” he asked, not making any effort to hide the fact that he was looking at where Doran was holding his bride’s hand very close to her stomach.

Doran just let out a very long sigh at that. “Five minutes. You did not even last that long. I am disappointed in you.”

“You say that, but you’re not giving me the Look.”

Another long-suffering sigh, before her son looked at his wife, who cleared her throat and announced, “I wish to confer with a midwife, but my courses have not come in these past two moons.”

Loreza’s expression of joy at the news was cut short by her only daughter saying softly but incredulously, “I _won_ the bet?”

That got the Princess of Dorne to let out the exact same long-suffering sigh as her son and send a disapproving look at both of her youngest children, for who else would Elia make that kind of bet with? She loved all of her children dearly, but at times they were more trying than all of their bannermen combined. That included the damned Yronwoods.

Thankfully, while Doran just buried his face in his hands and undoubtedly wished for the briefest of moments that he had never left Norvos due to having two extremely annoying younger siblings, something she could sympathize with as Lewyn had his own moments even now, Mellario looked highly amused instead of offended, simply saying, “I was surprised as well, I must admit. Who knew that such a solemn man could be so very _daring_ while in-“

“Can we discuss this when there’s not a two-year-old here?” Oberyn cut her off, putting his hands over his daughter’s ears, causing Nymeria to giggle and try to escape her father’s hold.

Doran just sighed, keeping his hands firmly over his face. “How about we do not discuss this in any capacity?”

“No, no, I want to know just how I won the bet that your bride would be pregnant,” Elia said in between trying to help her brother keep Nym from running off and failing.

Thankfully for him, their failure to keep Nym next to them did save Doran from having to deal with his two younger siblings, and instead amused everyone with her general adorableness that came from being a little toddler. Nym walked up to her uncle and aunt, looking directly at Mellario’s stomach. “Baby cousin in there too? Like aunt Sylvie?” at the smile and nod her new aunt gave her, she frowned in confusion. “But aunt Sylvie has a bigger belly.”

Loreza had to duck her head to try and hide her smile and avoid anyone’s eye, for she knew that she would burst out laughing if she did and did not want to hurt her little granddaughter’s feelings.

Mellario didn’t look offended at the comment, but she did look very unsure about how to respond to it, so thankfully Oberyn scooped up his daughter and said, “The baby grows the more time they spend in there. Aunt Sylvia’s baby is just further along than your aunt Mellario’s.”

“Oh.” With that simple exclamation, Nym gestured for her father to let her down. Once he did, she looked between both of her aunts, another look of confusion crossing her face after a moment. “How did my cousins get in there?”

Loreza knew that she wasn’t the only one that had to look away and employ every single ounce of control she had learned over the years to not burst out laughing at the somewhat terrified look on Oberyn’s face as he replied, “Well… they… it’s something only big girls know. Big girls that can use real spears. You’ll learn all about it then.”

That backfired on her son, for Nym’s face was instead set in determination as she declared that she would go learn how to use one now and ran off, her father immediately running after her while calling his daughter’s name, causing everyone else in their family to all but die from the laughter they had been holding in. Doran even went so far as to declare that Nymeria is the daughter that Oberyn deserves.

Once they had all calmed down, Sylvia offered to call the midwife they had on hand for Mellario, which she gladly took her up on. Both Lewyn and Elia followed them, Lewyn to keep an eye on his paramour and Elia to spend more time with her goodsister, leaving Loreza and her eldest son alone.

Before Doran could get out a single word, she held up a hand to stop him and asked, “My son, tell me one thing: will Mellario be happy here? I trust your judgement, but Norvos is very different from Dorne, and all I wish is to make her transition as smooth as I possibly can.”

Doran looked grave, but nodded. “We have discussed that. Mellario knows that there are some concessions she will have to make, as have I.” A pause, and then he added in a softer voice, “They do not foster their children in Norvos.”

Loreza shut her eyes and let out a soft breath. “You told her about the deal with Yronwood.”

“I did. She did not take it well, and made me swear that none of our other children would be sent away. She did not sound enthusiastic about taking in fosterlings either for much of the same reasons, but acquiesced to it as an alternative so long as they are not taken away from their own family for too long.”

She sighed, but nodded in agreement. It may cause some raised eyebrows, but not all Martell children were always fostered out. Elia had not been due to her health as a child, and she herself had only let Oberyn be sent out to hopefully keep him and his sister out of trouble. (That attempt had only somewhat worked.)

“I am glad you discussed this with her now. Did you tell her about what her role will be? Elia will not be here forever, and Oberyn is unmarried and may well stay that way for years unless we find a woman that can keep up with him willingly.”

“I have, though I am hoping for Elia to help more than I will ever be able to.”

“She will, I assure you. Your sister has already asked me for details you have sent me about your bride, and she has left some details for your Dornish wedding ceremony open to give her a chance for some of her own customs to be included.”

“Mellario will be pleased.”

“She may be even more pleased if you are there when she receives confirmation that she is indeed carrying your child.” Loreza smiled at his hesitant yet longing look. “Go. There is nothing pressing we must discuss now.”

With another respectful bow of thanks, her son left her alone.

Loreza took a long moment to lean back and relax before leaving herself. Her family was growing, and while the road would be long, she had faith that they would continue to grow and have the lives they deserve, no matter what comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... apparently Arianne is the one member of her family that actually got an official birth year in 276. As you can see, that's not happening, as she won't be born until the start of 278. Seriously, why just her? It makes no sense. Just consider this another AU element I guess...
> 
> I may have been reading a lot of fic about Rhaelle Baratheon lately that influenced the beginning of this chapter. She's just amazing though, the only good one from that generation of targs.
> 
> Though seriously, Doran is confirmed to only be a year or two younger than Rhaella, meaning Loreza would at least have grown up watching the epic mess that was Aegon V's kids, and I don't see how that wouldn't influence her own opinions.
> 
> Loreza was Rhaella's lady-in-waiting at some point before she was queen and most likely before Elia was born. (In fact, I personally headcanon Elia to be the result of the very enthusiastic greeting she got from her husband upon coming back to Dorne.) Given the ages of those involved, I headcanon that Loreza saw Rhaella at least as a daughter, and Rhaella saw her as a mother figure since Shaera was... Shaera, though she never fully admitted it.
> 
> According to the wiki, Norvoshi women shave off all of their hair. (Except eyebrows. I refuse to imagine an entire country where no one has eyebrows because no. That's too freaky to imagine, I'm sorry.) Not really an issue, especially since noblewomen there wear wigs, but I've heard that wigs have a habit of trapping in heat, which might not be ideal in a desert. If Mellario mainly stays inside that's not too much of a problem, but traveling might be another story, and no one that matters will force her to grow out her hair when she hasn't for well over 20 years. She might end up setting a trend for fancy veils by that logic, which wouldn't be that out of place in such a sunny country.
> 
> Doran totally wishes that he could go back to Norvos because both of his younger siblings are that annoying, as much as he loves them. I relate to him personally as an eldest sibling.
> 
> Did I just sort of fix the first and biggest crack in the Doran/Mellario marriage? Yes. Yes I did. Seriously, telling her about this deal from the start helps them both realize that they have to make some concessions to the other. Mellario might still have some resentment because she feels that she has to give up more, but Doran now realizes from the start that he has to make more effort than expected to make his bride feel at home.
> 
> Also, I got asked about this last chapter: Oberyn going to Moraq actually changed the timeline quite a bit, especially since he stayed away from Dorne for a few months more than I'm saying he did in canon. Didn't affect the timeline for Doran's trip much at all, though him still being out when he met Mellario actually was the thing that made Doran mention the Yronwood situation, since Mellario asked about why Oberyn was still gone. As another change, Oberyn hasn't yet been back to Oldtown, and does not know Obara exists quite yet, though that will change soon, probably during a oneshot with him and Elia going back because Oby is very worried about the possibility after meeting Nym. I think that's it for the timeline changes at the moment.
> 
> Next chapter: News of the aftermath of Duskendale reaches the Martells. Elia and her mother talk about future possibilities for her.
> 
> (By the way, does anyone have any ideas for a fic focusing on Oberyn/Ellaria? I am disappointed at how little content that just involves the two of them there is...)


	6. Plans for the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News from Duskendale reaches Dorne. Elia and Loreza Martell discuss possible plans to secure their country.

**277, Sunspear, A moon after the wedding of Doran and Mellario Martell**

Elia hadn’t thought anything of the fact that a servant stopped her on the way back to her rooms, telling her that the Princess wished to see her at her earliest convenience. Why would she? Nothing the servant said made it seem like it was urgent.

She had spent the morning with Mellario, going over some of the duties the Lady of Sunspear would need to pay special attention to. Her goodsister had grown up with the expectation of marrying well and had been taught how to run a household from an early age, but there were differences between the households of Norvos and the other Free Cities and Dorne, and even a part from that she had not thought her fate would be to one day become the Princess Consort of Dorne, so Elia had done her best to slowly ease her into the role rather than dump it all on her at once, especially given her pregnancy.

The child that would one day inherit the Sunchair of Dorne showed every indication of being healthy, but the entire palace was still on high alert for fear that it would change at any moment. Mellario had several times showed frustration that they all treated her like glass, most especially her husband himself, but Elia had just shifted uncomfortably when it was brought up and told her to discuss that with her husband. She had no idea what was said between them and would not ask given the subject matter, but her goodsister must have been pacified somehow, for while Mellario had still seemed visibly frustrated at times, she never said anything unless one got too overbearing.

Elia herself didn’t quite know what to think of her family’s overprotectiveness. She knew that her own mother had lost a few children in the womb, and two of her older had siblings die in their cradle before they could even be presented to the court, but Mellario seemingly didn’t have the same family history that worried Elia herself.

At the same time… neither she nor Oberyn could fully understand the grief that their family went through as it had all happened before they themselves were born. Mellario’s frustration was understandable, but so was everyone’s fear.

It was traditional for the heir to the Sunchair and their new spouse to make a Progress through Dorne to introduce themselves to their people, but that was understandably pushed back until after their child was born. While some of their ancestors had traveled around while pregnant- Loreza herself had when she was pregnant with Doran, and by all accounts that had been her smoothest pregnancy despite the travel- no one wished to tempt fate this time.

So Mellario and her cousins that had chosen to stay in Dorne as her ladies-in-waiting had mostly been limited to Sunspear, the Water Gardens, and the surrounding area. That might have been for the best, as it gave them a chance to adjust to life in Dorne rather than immediately be thrown into the thick of it. They had been doing well, with only a few missteps that had been quickly cleared up. Mellario’s reception had improved to the point that Elia had a feeling that elaborate veils would soon come back into fashion due to their new princess, something that she doubted many would find issue with.

So, as she knew that Mellario hadn’t been asked to come as she had just left her goodsister’s quarters and the servant had left after telling her that the Princess had asked for her, she hadn’t expected to find anything out of the ordinary upon arriving at the Ruling Princess’ solar.

As a result, she was completely blindsighted when she opened the door to find her older brother with his head bowed, their mother standing over him with both hands on his shoulders. “Doran, I swear to you Mellario will be safe,” she was telling him softly, making him look up at her. “All of Dorne will protect her if need be.”

“What has happened?” Elia interrupted, feeling as though someone had thrown a tub of ice-cold water over her. Surely none would be foolish enough to threaten the future Princess Consort of Dorne…

They both looked at her, the briefest expressions of surprise on their faces before they were wiped away. Loreza sighed and told Doran to leave and be with his wife before gesturing for her to take the seat closest to the desk, which she did, not bothering to hide the worried look on her face.

“The Defiance of Duskendale has ended. Aerys Targaryen has passed down his judgement upon the Darkling family for their actions.”

If one read those words on paper, they would believe it to be nothing but good news.

Hearing the completely flat tone Loreza had while speaking them? That told a completely different story.

In lieu of having to answer her questions about what had happened, the Princess of Dorne handed Elia the message one of their spies had sent detailing the whole mess.

According to them, after six months of Tywin Lannister laying siege to the port, Ser Barristan Selmy of the Kingsguard had performed a solo rescue mission to free the Targaryen king on the eve of the day the Hand would storm the castle to end it one way or another. He had succeeded, and Lord Denys Darkling had surrendered as he no longer had any leverage to keep the army outside of his gates at bay.

The surrender did nothing to save any of his family.

Their spy had written in detail of Aerys’ behavior after being released. If there had been the occasional report that had made them wonder if the madness the Targaryens seemed to never be able to escape from had reached this member of their blood, this would confirm it.

The entire Darkling family was beheaded down to the last member. Not even the smallest children who were no doubt innocent to Denys Darkling's machinations were spared.

Their kin, House Hollard, were faced with the same fate; only a young boy named Dontos had been spared, and he had only been given a reprieve because Ser Barristan had asked for it, for even one as mad as Aerys could not refuse a request from the man who had saved his life. It was a cruel mercy however, for the boy would grow up with nothing, as his ancestral lands were taken away from him, their villages burned, and their castle destroyed.

The worst part, the thing that had no doubt worried Doran the most, was the fate of Lord Denys’ wife. Lady Serala had hailed from Myr. Her birthplace was more damning than any actual evidence could ever be, and thus she had been held accountable for her husband’s actions, for why would an _upstanding_ Westerosi lord ever dare to defy their king unless his foreign wife had whispered poison in his ears?

They admittedly did not have any details of what had led to this idiocy. Lady Serala could have well been the person they made her out to be. But she could have just as easily been nothing but an innocent victim, and they would never know now, for what man would bother sparing the writings of a woman if they existed?

Whatever had happened, instead of a quick beheading like her husband and his kin, her fate had been far more terrible. For the crime of not being Westerosi, Lady Serala had been horrifically mutilated before being tied down and burned to death, all while Aerys had reportedly laughed as he watched.

Once Elia had finished reading, she looked at her mother, unable to find any words, finding her mother with her eyes closed and head bowed, looking far older than a woman who was not quite fifty should, even one who was the ruler of an entire territory. “Mama…”

Loreza just gave her a bitter upturn of her lips, not moving otherwise. “Given everything, I do not know what we can do to calm our people’s worry when the news of Aerys’ actions leak out. Not when we ourselves are just as concerned, if not more.”

Everything. That was a light way to put their situation.

Most importantly, they were only around a year and a half away from the millennium festival, meant to celebrate the thousand-year anniversary of Nymeria of the Rhoyne leading her people to Dorne, her marriage to Mors Martell, and their eventual unification of Dorne under House Nymeros Martell. Even in an ideal world, where there had been nothing but peace for years, their people would grumble and wonder why they must pay any heed to the Targaryens, the last remnant of the Valyrians that had forced the Rhoynar from their homes to keep their freedom. Any previous grievance against those north of the Red Mountains would be continuously brought up, though in an ideal world it would only be the occasional grumble.

But this was not an ideal world. Aerys had visited Dorne while on a Royal Progress several years before, and the court he had brought had not impressed the Dornish. Aerys himself certainly hadn’t; they had never discussed it between themselves, but Elia distinctly remembered exchanging a look with Oberyn, neither of them impressed by the man who called himself their king.

His proclamation later, that he wished to see the deserts bloom, had also not been met with the warmest of reactions given the backhanded way he had said it, seemingly implying that they were incapable of doing it themselves because they were not him. Not to mention the fact that, as with the rest of his _grand_ plans, he had never breathed a word of it after that meeting.

Even if they held hope that Rhaegar would be better, it would not soothe their people anywhere near enough, for who could tell when he would take the throne? And even if it was now, who could say that he had not inherited his father’s madness? By all accounts, Aerys himself had been sane when he first climbed the Iron Throne to rule.

There was also the fact that with all of their new trading contracts with the cities and countries in Essos, their people were already taking a long, hard look at the other kingdoms of Westeros, slowly realizing that they were getting more from and treated far better by those foreign nations they had barely opened up trade with than by their so-called brethren north of their borders, to the point where, even though it hadn’t even been two years since they had opened trade with Great Moraq and even less since Doran had toured the Free Cities himself, their merchants were making more contracts with them than they did with the rest of Westeros.

Some of it was due to merchant greed, yes, but nowhere near all of it. Oberyn had confided in them that on one of his trips down to the Shadow City he had overheard two merchants discussing how one of them had gotten a lucrative contract to bring YiTish goods to Dorne, the other asking if he had a good reference for him to get one himself because he was sick to death of dealing with the damned northerners. The people their mother had sent out to check had confirmed that it was not an isolated opinion.

Thinking of all of this, and proving that she was definitely related to certain people in her family, Elia asked, “And why do we have to?”

“How would we protect our country if we did not? I have no wish to drag our people into a war simply for the sake of pride, and I am not foolish enough to believe that those north of our borders would not leap for another attempt to humiliate us. Who would be our ally?”

This was it. Elia knew that she had two simple options here. Either she could drop it, do her best to assure her mother that things would work out- something both of them knew was in no way a guarantee- or she could suggest another option, one that could change everything.

She chose the latter option, for what was the harm in suggesting it? She had already weighed the outcomes of that decision long before this moment. She had simply chosen to wait until Mellario was more comfortable in Dorne before saying anything.

“Perhaps an empire across the sea, one where a child of Dorne is married to their leader?”

Her mother immediately understood her meaning, but simply gave her a slightly amused look before replying, “I fail to see why someone your brother has assured me will be the Sultan of Great Moraq would marry a princess from a country they have only recently opened trade with.”

Elia just shrugged. “I do not know why either, but when Oberyn talked to Sultana Mara about the possibility before he left, she seemed open to the idea.”

She didn’t think that Loreza had ever looked as shocked and incredulous in any of her memories as she did at that very second. “Oberyn. Oberyn talked to her. About you marrying someone.”

Huh. Apparently Oberyn hadn’t told their mother about that possibility yet, even though he had been more than happy to tell stories about Prince Mehmed to their family. Though to be fair, things had been fairly hectic lately, what with first Doran’s wedding and all the festivities to celebrate it, and then with the two of them having snuck off to Oldtown to find Obara existed, so perhaps it wasn’t much of a surprise.

Instead of saying all of that, she just shrugged again. “You can confirm it with him when he gets back from his ride with Obara and Nym, but I assure you he did. He told me himself when he first arrived back.”

“The two of you have been plotting this for that long?”

“It is an attractive option for several reasons. Oberyn wouldn’t try mocking Prince Mehmed as a suitor as they were already friends before he ever even realized it was a possibility, and he has a high enough position for you to approve of.”

Elia hadn’t meant that as anything but a simple fact, that Princess Loreza wanted her daughter to marry well, but to her surprise her mother looked tired and somewhat guilty at that reminder.

“Are you only thinking about such a match because we would approve of it?”

“Is it so odd for me to trust your opinion? And is my marriage not supposed to bring prosperity to our House and country?”

“And is it what you want? To take up the role of a consort in such a far-off country?”

That brought Elia up short, and some of her confusion and surprise must have shown on her face, for her mother gave her a small, sad smile and clarified, “I do wish for you to marry well. As far as I am concerned, you do deserve to have as high of a position as you can in your marriage, to be a ruler a country deserves. But I gave Doran a choice in his marriage, and plan to do the same for Oberyn. If it is at all possible, I wish for you to have the same. And if I am not able to give you any say, we are in more dire straits than any of us would wish. If you do not wish to go so far, tell me honestly, and we shall find another way to secure Dorne.”

More than a little touched, for she had already consented to being married off for the good of Dorne and yet her mother still gave her a choice in the matter, asking what she herself wished for, she took a moment to gather her thoughts.

“I will admit that the idea being the Sultana of an empire I’ve never been to fills me with some trepidation,” she started softly, looking into her mother’s eyes. “I do not particularly want to be the ruler of anything. I feel the same relief that Oberyn no doubt does that Doran is the heir, not I.

“But I will admit to wanting more out of life than just staying in Dorne. If it had been possible, I would have gone with Oberyn when he went to Essos, not just to try and keep him out of trouble, but because I want to see more of what the world has to offer. I love our country, but I do not want to live my life without having been anywhere else.

“And I will fully admit that my family’s approval is something that I wish for. Oberyn has already talked extensively to me about Prince Mehmed and his family, and I know that he is someone I can grow fond of, possibly even love if the gods are kind enough. It would be the kind of life that, while I did not grow up expecting it, I could possibly be happy in, and would give me a chance to be remembered for something, even if it is just a mention in the history books that I secured Dorne for our rule.

“So yes, this match is something I will gladly accept.”

Her mother looked at her with a mixture of pride and some sadness. “So may it be,” she whispered. “I will admit that this pleases me more than of the possibility of you being forced to live in King’s Landing with those sycophants, but I will admit that I never meant for you to go so far.”

“At least the problem with this match is only the physical distance,” Elia whispered back, thinking of all the tales she had been told of the Red Keep and the Targaryen court within.

Loreza let out a bitter laugh at that, no doubt thinking of Queen Rhaella. If there was one thing that she knew her mother wished she could change, it would be saving Rhaella from the fate her parents had forced her into. Perhaps that had been what made her mother so open to letting them marry someone they chose while still drilling into them the fact that they had a duty to their country, not wishing her blood children to have the same fate as the little girl she spoke so fondly of.

“We will wait for Mellario to safely deliver her child,” the Princess of Dorne declared, “but once that is done, we will see if your younger brother spoke the truth and that it is indeed a possibility.”

Knowing that they would more than likely not get any reply from Moraq before then anyway- the last letter Oberyn had received from his friend only a week ago had said that they were still working on driving off the Dothraki Khalasar threatening their northern borders, and once that was done things would no doubt be somewhat hectic for a while- and that this entire discussion may be a moot point if something happened to Mellario during the birth, Elia nodded in agreeance. “That would be for the best,” she replied, quickly and silently sending out another prayer for her goodsister’s health.

“I also wish to discuss the idea with Doran first, for while I have no desire to let the Stranger take me yet, he will no doubt be the one to deal with the long-term fallout of this decision, if things are taken a certain way.”

Her mother was wrong about that in Elia’s opinion. She made it sound like there was only one single way that others could take their actions that would make them wonder at their intentions. Not only were there much more than one way to interpret their actions, the way they might settle on could be nothing but the truth. After all, they were trying to secure their country and were not looking to the rest of the seven kingdoms to accomplish that. Doran was already married to a foreign woman, and if they made another marriage outside of Dorne it would truly appear that they were moving towards independence from the rulers in King’s Landing.

“Please. He is the one of us that deserves to have the final say.”

Whatever Doran decided she would accept. If she trusted her younger brother’s opinion, she revered her older brother’s just as much. He may still decide that this plan is far too risky and to go another route.

Elia hoped he did not. There were other ways to secure Dorne, yes, but this one- this one would bring Dorne to the place she was meant to be, to be finally given the due they deserved, the princess knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Defiance of Duskendale, according to the wiki, lasted half a year. It ended after Ser Barristan the Bold made a solo rescue mission to free Aerys. Denys Darkling surrendered after that, and both the Darklings and Hollards were almost all exterminated due to their actions.
> 
> Serala of Myr was the wife of Lord Denys Darkling, and was pretty much made into the scrapegoat for the whole incident because she was foreign. Apparently the regular people of Duskendale still look back fondly at Denys and accuse Serala of being the fall of the Darkling family. Whatever happened, I doubt she was terrible enough to warrant such a horrific death, and Doran, who has just married a woman from Norvos, a foreign city, who is pregnant with their first child, is understandably more than a little concerned about the implications.
> 
> This might be an unpopular opinion, but I don't think that Princess Loreza had much say in Elia's betrothal to Rhaegar or truly even wanted it. She may have been pleased at the idea of her daughter becoming queen, yes, but she was friends with Rhaella, and I don't see why she would be enthusiastic at her daughter being the gooddaughter to a man such as Aerys. How do you say no to a man as mad as Aerys? Not to mention the fact that by the time the betrothal to Rhaegar was finalized in canon, her health was most likely not the best, given how she died a few months after it was finalized. She might not have wanted Doran to be forced to deal with the consequences of refusing the match.  
> Of course, this could all be wrong, and we won't know because why would we ever get any information about her given how she doesn't even get a canon name? Sorry, I will never not be salty about that fact...
> 
> Anyway, as you can see, this is now a series! This will still be the main fic, don't worry, but I want to add some oneshots too. At the moment, I have two side stories in mind: Oberyn and Elia going to Oldtown and finding Obara, and another one about Doran and Mellario in the early days of their marriage in Dorne. The former might be the first to come out, if only because I have a freaking title for it already. I hate titles...
> 
> I also think i am going to do the lady in waiting Oberyn/Ellaria suggestion you guys made. It might take a little while though, because as a consequence of wanting all the baby Sand Snakes and Elia in the same fic and watching Avatar: The Last Airbender on netflix it may have morphed into the Rhoynish Water Magic au...
> 
> Next chapter: It turns out the Martells aren't the only ones to have been plotting marriage. Oberyn is quite annoyed when the new sultan of Moraq sends a messenger.


	7. Gifts From the East

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A messenger from Great Moraq arrives. Mehmed manages to make things harder for men attempting to find a bride in Dorne.

**278, The Water Gardens**

Princess Arianne Nymeros Martell, firstborn child of Doran and Mellario, second in line to inherit the Sunchair, had been born on the first day of the new year at dawn, with every sign of being healthy. Their people had taken the timing as a great omen, believing that it meant that she was destined for greatness and would lead Dorne into a new era of prosperity.

Their family wouldn’t deny that that was a possibility for they themselves wished it to be true, but it was not anywhere near the forefront of their minds for as much as they all adored the newest member of the family, they all very much mourned their much-missed ability to sleep even three months later.

From the moment Arianne was born, she proved that she had a very healthy set of lungs and was not afraid to advertise this fact. The only way she would shut up would be if she was held, and even that wasn’t always guaranteed if it wasn’t her parents or grandmother. It had quickly gotten to the point where, only a week after the birth, Obara and Nym had woken Oberyn up in the middle of the night and begged him to take them back to Sunspear to get away from the crying despite the fact that they had originally been excited to stay at the Water Gardens. They had also begged him to take Arianne back and exchange her for a nice, quiet baby like their cousin Ovid (or Viddy as he had affectionately been nicknamed.) He had told his daughters to take that up with their uncle and aunt and let them sleep with him that night, moving them to a different room in the nursery the next day. It seemed to have solved most of the problems.

Thankfully, their newest sister, Tyene, had proved to be much more to their liking, as she was fairly quiet and only really cried if she was hungry or needed to be changed. Of course, she was only a little over a month old and that could change, but she had already wormed her way into her sisters’ hearts. Obara had even chosen to ride in the litter with Nym just to spend more time with Tyene, though she insisted that it was to protect them. She took her duties as an elder sister very seriously.

They had even insisted on following him to the nursery to help him introduce the newest member of the family to their two aunts, as Elia had chosen to stay with Mellario until she traveled back to Sunspear to present her daughter to the court, which should be within the next couple of weeks.

Therefore, there were several eyewitnesses to the fact that there was one way to make Arianne quiet down, and it was putting her into the same crib as her baby cousin.

When he had done that, Arianne stared at her younger cousin with the most confused expression Oberyn had ever seen on a baby, reached out to gently poke her, before making a pleased noise and scooting over to cuddle Tyene, immediately settling down for a nap.

Meanwhile her mother, aunt, uncle, and other two female cousins just stared at this scene, completely dumbfounded.

Mellario was the first one to react, immediately declaring that she was going to take a nap before all but running out of the room. Oberyn couldn’t blame her; their mother had been back in Sunspear for a while with Doran traveling back and forth to support her, meaning that Mellario was the only one able to consistently make Arianne calm down. He even sympathized a little bit given how clingy Nym turned out to be. He couldn’t even bring anyone back to his rooms for fear that she’d barge in during the night because she managed to figure out a good excuse to get cuddles.

(Doran had laughed at him when he complained about it. He hoped that Arianne was just as bad when she learned how to walk and they wanted to give her a younger sibling.)

Oberyn and Elia left soon after that, ushering the oldest snakelings out of the room, silencing their protests by telling them they were going to the pools.

Soon enough, the eldest two Sand Snakes (as Elia had lovingly dubbed his children) were happily splashing in the pools with some of the other children, something that made Oberyn relax every time he saw it. He had worried about them getting along with others, Obara especially given how she had spent the first five years of her life. While his eldest was somewhat aloof, she had taken Elia’s words of protecting her younger siblings to heart, and had even extended it to a few of the youngest children that played in the pools, making sure they were okay at all times.

“I’m taking them with me whenever I marry and leave,” Elia said abruptly as they reclined underneath one of the trees and watched the children play.

“What?!” Oberyn sputtered, shooting up and staring at his sister, who just laughed at him and refused to say anything else no matter how much he glared at her.

Of course, as soon as he settled back down and closed his eyes to hopefully take a nice siesta while his daughters were occupied with the other children, a servant walked up to them with a message from the Princess, causing him to groan and complain that he literally just got here, which earned him a discreet swat on the arm from his sister as she took and read the message.

“What is it?”

In reply, Elia just handed him the paper. He quickly read it, eyebrows rising in surprise.

“Well,” he started, “’Bara and Nym won’t be happy about this. I told them we could go for a ride around the dunes this week.”

“Leave them here,” Elia told him, already rising and brushing off her skirts, “and tell them you’ll be back in a couple days. Bribe them with more weapon lessons if you must.”

Oberyn just stared at her as she walked away, presumably to her rooms to prepare for their ride back to Sunspear. His sister wasn’t usually that short with family, but then again, they didn’t usually get called back to Sunspear because a ship bearing a message for the only daughter of the Ruling Princess of Dorne from the one of the Sultans of Great Moraq had appeared in the harbor.

He was positive that one of the main reasons Mehmed did this was just because he knew that the timing would work out perfectly and annoy him.

And because it was a good idea to prove that he wasn’t a terrible option for a beloved daughter rather than just letting said daughter’s brother do all the work.

But annoying him was definitely an added bonus that he knew his annoying friend was laughing about as he begrudgingly got up to tell his daughters that their father would have to leave for a day or two. As he dealt with two sad children, he swore vengeance upon Mehmed to be collected whenever they next see each other.

* * *

After having to bribe his daughters with more “stabby stab lessons” as Nym referred to combat training and making the long ride between the Martells’ two strongholds for the second time that day, albeit quicker as they didn’t need a litter for small children, Oberyn thought it was understandable that all he wished to do was go to sleep and deal with everything in the morning.

But of course he wasn’t allowed to do that according to the people actually in charge of the family because why should he get what he wanted today even if all he wanted was to just watch his daughters play in the pools and eat some of the fresh fruit they grew there.

Though he would have still gone even if he hadn’t had to. Elia had been acting weird since they had received the message calling them back to Sunspear, being fairly short with everyone and having the subtle crease of her eyebrows that he had long learned meant that something troubled her.

He had finally asked about it when they were almost in sight of the Sandship.

Elia had tightened her hands on the reins of her sand steed for the briefest of moments before forcibly relaxing, bowing her head slightly and closing her eyes. “I trust you. I trust that I will be able to find some happiness in Moraq, with Sultan Mehmed. I just… I did not expect this to be so soon.”

Neither had Oberyn, if he was honest. He had assumed Mehmed would spend more than just a few months solidifying his rule before making a move to begin discussions to marry his sister if he so chose. He knew that their mother, with input from Elia herself, had sent a letter a couple of moons ago bringing up the idea, but given how long a sea voyage between their countries took, the letter could not have arrived more than a couple of days before the ship set sail. Mehmed would have had to already been planning this, something he hadn’t expected as Mehmed had seemed even less inclined than him to marry. He wondered what exactly Lady Mara told her son to make him suddenly decide to do this.

Oberyn sighed, glancing over at his older sister. If one didn’t know her well or hadn’t heard her confession, they would not be able to tell that Elia felt anything but calm interest at what would be waiting for them, especially with the head coverings they wore while traveling to keep the sun and sand out of their faces. He had grown up with her, didn’t remember a time without her in his life, and knew better.

“It’s not like you’d be sailing to Moraq to get married tomorrow,” he said, shrugging and looking back ahead to where could almost see the towers of his home in the distance, keeping one eye on his sister. “Nothing will happen for another year, last letter I got Mehmed showed interest in the millennium celebrations happening next year and would rather show up to see that than make you come anytime soon.”

The twenty-year-old blinked, realized his word choice, and snickered. His older sister just gave him a completely unimpressed look before rolling her eyes at him.

“That is reassuring. It is just far more sudden than I thought it would be.”

Oberyn didn’t have any words for that. Instead of trying to find any, he nudged his steed closer to Elia’s, reaching out to set a hand on her shoulder in support. He couldn’t see more than her eyes with the head scarfs they wore, but given the grateful smile he could see in them, he didn’t need to.

Once they had actually gotten into the Sandship, they weren’t given anywhere near enough time to prepare for to receive the messenger in his opinion. In fact, their uncle had relayed strict orders from his mother that he was to be ready in an hour unless he wanted her to force him to bring his daughters with him whenever he went into the Shadow City for the next two moons. It was not an idle threat. Elia had even laughed at that, the traitor.

After Oberyn had somehow made do with the time he had been given to get dressed, they met the rest of their family in the throne room. The full court wasn’t there, but he did recognize more than a few of the nobles who were there, all of them undoubtedly loyal to their family… and several of which were notorious gossips. Whatever will happen here, Princess Loreza undoubtedly wished for the news of this meeting to spread quickly through their nation.

The messenger he recognized as one of Mehmed’s trusted advisors. Not the most trusted as it wasn’t Zaganos, but still definitely showed what this was meant as.

More formalities welcoming the messenger to Dorne followed. All the damned formalities were the worst part of having been born a prince if you asked him. He’d rather not be bored having to pay tribute to idiots and just be bored in ridiculous, unending meetings.

Once that was done, the messenger got to the heart of the matter. With a bow, he gestured to one of his companions holding an ornate box carved with the image of the sun and said, “Sultan Mehmed has heard much of the wit and intuitiveness of the Princess Elia. But a few days before my ship set sail, he received your offer of a match between them. He is willing to open negotiations, but finds it remiss to leave their interactions only to that. With that in mind, my sultan bid me to extend an offer of correspondence between him and the woman who he wishes will soon be his intended, along with these gifts, for one does not simply offer marriage to a Princess of the Sun without first showing a small portion of what she is worth.” With that, the other man with him stepped forward and opened the box.

Looking at what it contained, Oberyn counted himself lucky that he didn’t have much want for a permanent partner. Once the news of this spread throughout the land, any suitors would have to step up their game. Thanks to Mehmed, men would have to do far more than just have an occasional conversation with their intended to be considered good marriage material.

The box held two things. The first was a fine dagger made out of the siyah metal Moraq was famed for, something he was jealous of. It had taken him months to wear Mehmed down enough to let him have an amazing set of daggers made out of that black metal, and yet he sent one to his sister. He must really be serious about the match.

The second was no doubt the one that would have the most gossip spoken about it. It was a tiara, each side made up of two golden spears reaching towards a ruby sun in the center. Though seemingly simple in design, the ruby sun in the middle was still shocking, as the gem had been flattened to the point where if it wasn’t for the fact that it had the sparkling qualities a ruby should have, one would believe that it was just a piece of colored metal.

“Sultan Mehmed sent the tiara to remind everyone of the position that Princess Elia holds now and of the one that he hopes she will one day have, and the dagger in hopes that, while he prays such a day never comes, if she ever needs to defend herself from one who would harm her, she has a way to do it with.”

Oberyn, after having recovered from his own surprise, glanced over at the rest of his family. He couldn’t quite see his uncle’s reaction as he was too far away from him, on the opposite side of the twin thrones, and his mother had kept her face in the political mask she often wore when conducting her duties as Ruling Princess, he could see his sibling’s reactions. Doran’s face was calm, but he could see the interest shining in his eyes even as they calculated what this meant, while Elia had let her own face show clear surprise and pleasure at this unexpected gift.

Along with the gifts, Mehmed had also sent Elia a letter, which she personally took back to her rooms after the meeting ended. She refused to let him read it and kept swatting him away when he tried to read over her shoulder. Why had she even let him in the room if she wouldn’t let him be nosey and read it? It wasn’t even like she was planning to respond in Moraqi and needed him to check her spelling, as due to many different factors they hadn’t yet gotten to teaching her how to write in Moraqi.

As a result, Oberyn was lounging on one of his sister’s chaises in her solar, weakly glaring at her as she herself sat out her desk, already working through a first draft for the letter she would send to Mehmed when their older brother walked in the door.

“Aren’t you supposed to knock?” he asked, eyeing the intruder.

Doran gave him a look (not a Look, a normal look) and did not deign to reply to him. Instead, he just walked over to their sister and handed her the box the messenger had brought. “As expected, there was nothing wrong with your gift. Word has already spread throughout the palace of what you have received as a courting gift. All the men now pray that Oberyn never does something as out of character as try to get his sister married ever again for fear they shall never woo a bride of their own.”

Oberyn scowled at that. Finding a suitor for his sister couldn’t be so odd that even Mellario had shown shock at the prospect.

Thankfully, before he could say something, Elia smiled sweetly at their brother and said, “Do not worry, dear brother. You shall soon be one of them, for I shall be taking my gifts back to the Water Gardens with me, and Mellario shall soon wonder why you did not give her many different gifts during your courtship and promptly expect you to remedy that.”

Oberyn burst out laughing at that as Doran just rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “And people believe you to be sweet and innocent.”

“And they are all fools for believing that,” their sister replied, opening the box and smiling at the contents within, taking out the knife first and gazing at it. “Oby, I have to thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome. What brought your attention to how brilliant my mind is this time, as you two keep attempting to deny it?”

That got him looks from both of his older siblings. He didn’t understand why; all of his actions brought wonderful outcomes.

(Except for that one time when they were six, seven, and seventeen and were visiting their grandparents. They did not talk about that incident due to how embarrassing it was for all parties involved, and had sworn they would never breathe a word of what happened to their mother.)

The look didn’t last long, as Elia looked back down to her gifts and a soft smile graced her face. “It is because, while I trusted your opinion, I have proof in my very hands about what kind of husband Sultan Mehmed will be.”

“Because he sent you a couple things as a gift?”

“Because he not only sent something acknowledging my status, but also sent something to show that, if all else fails, he wishes for me to have a way to defend myself. How many men outside of Dorne would give me that?”

* * *

With Elia’s consent and warm feelings towards the Moraqi Sultan abounding throughout Dorne (especially among the women who only benefited from the fact that men now felt like they had to give many different courting gifts to win them over), the match was finalized by the end of the year. Sultan Mehmed and his mother, the Lady Mara, would arrive in Dorne a moon before the millennium celebrations would take place, with their wedding taking place around the same time.

Of course, this could not be hidden, and news soon reached north of Red Mountains…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ovid is the son of Lewyn and Sylvia. He's a little under four months older than Arianne.
> 
> I have no idea if we got any information on why Oberyn's daughters started to be referred to as the Sand Snakes. I mean, the name makes sense, but when it started is in question. So I'm well within my rights to have Elia just start calling them that one day and have it stick.
> 
> I actually don't know how long it takes to travel between Sunspear and the Water Gardens. Let's just say that you can go back and forth in one day if you go early enough.  
> In a similar vein, it takes about two months to travel by boat between Dorne and Moraq. We're saying that they managed to figure out a faster way to communicate than such a long journey with... idk, ravens or something. This series has literal dragons in it, this isn't that unbelievable. It makes more sense than Littlefinger's teleportation for sure >.<
> 
> Oberyn: Good thing this won't effect me since I don't care about getting married or anything!  
> Ellaria:*exists*  
> Oberyn: ...shit.
> 
> Doran will get scenes that don't involve him being an exhausted older brother, I promise! It's just too fun writing him that way, I'm sorry.
> 
> Anyway, is there anything you guys would like to see during the millennium festival? I have some ideas, but I'm more than willing to take some suggestions from you guys. It's still quite a bit off though, we have PLOT to get through first.
> 
> Next chapter: We get a glimpse at what's going on in King's Landing.


	8. Musings of a Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaella receives news of Aerys' reaction to the news of Princess Elia's betrothal. She personally welcomes the possible consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An early update because this chapter was like ~500 to 1000 words shorter than I expected it to be... There should still be our regularly scheduled update on Monday though, and it should be back to our average word count ^^
> 
> Also: This chapter involves Rhaella. I've skirted over the abuse that Aerys forces her into, but please keep that in mind.

**279, King’s Landing**

One would believe a Queen would have more duties that would prevent her from simply standing in front of a window with her eyes closed, basking in the sun that came in, wishing more than anything that it could open and let her feel the fresh air.

Perhaps they would be correct for any other Queen, but not for a woman who was the consort of a man that had become progressively more and more cruel and insane, who locked her up in a holdfast for the “crime” of only having produced two living children.

It was a situation sang of in ballads, ones where brave knights rescued their hidden princesses from an evil king and they all lived happily ever after. Rhaella could only laugh in bitterness at the mere idea. There were no brave knights to be found in reality. The evil kings were never thwarted, and if they were it was only decades into their rule, never in time to prevent all of the pain they had brought. The songs the bards favored were nothing but lies.

There were times that Rhaella wondered why she even bothered, but she could not leave her sons alone in this life, not when their sire became more and more unstable. She feared what Viserys would become if she did not attempt to mitigate the king’s influence on him, and Rhaegar… She feared what Aerys would do to him as that king already assumed he was plotting with Tywin despite little evidence.

She was jarred from her reverie when footsteps came rushing down the hall. They were far too light to be either the king or one of his lackeys, but she couldn’t stop herself from rushing to a chair and sinking down on it for fear that that man would take offense to it regardless.

She breathed a silent sigh of relief that it was only Amista, even as her brows pressed together at the visible worry on her handmaid’s face and the way her eyes darted around the room, seeing for herself that it held only Rhaella and Septa Rosalind, who was also far more loyal to Rhaella herself than to the king on the throne. “What has happened?” she asked as the door was firmly shut behind the woman.

Amista let out a ragged breath before kneeling in front of her. “Aerys may have started the fall of the Targaryen dynasty.”

“What?” Rhaella breathed, clutching onto the arms of her chair.

Behind her, Septa Rosalind almost dropped her sewing and had to scramble to keep it from falling. “What has he done?” she asked as soon as her project was secure on her lap. “The Stormlands blame him for the death of Lord Steffon and Lady Cassandra as they would not have gone to Essos were it not for him forcing them to, but they had no plans to rise up in rebellion the last we heard, and I cannot think of why any of the other kingdoms would start an uprising at this time.”

Amista shook her head, the worry still etched on her face. “Aerys has found out that Princess Elia has been betrothed to the Sultan of Great Moraq from the spider.”

Varys. The damned Master of Whispers that Aerys had summoned from Essos. She rued the day he ever stepped into King’s Landing due to that man’s paranoia.

Rhaella had known of the betrothal negotiations for several moons from the occasional letter from Loreza they were able to smuggle into the Red Keep, and of them opening trade with Great Moraq for longer. In fact, even near three years later she still laughed at how clear Loree’s exasperation at her youngest son came across in the letter informing her of his random decision where he chose to randomly go visit an empire across the sea for who knows what reason.

From everything she had heard of this Sultan- which was unfortunately less than she wished as she was forced to keep her correspondence with her former ladies brief for fear of someone noticing- she approved of the match, not in the least because the sweet girl she wished she had been able to meet more than once deserved a better fate than being forced to live under Aerys’ watch. She had known that it was only a matter of time before that man realized that Princess Elia was quite possibly the only woman with Targaryen blood any where near of age...

Rhaella sighed. “He was not pleased.” She didn’t ask the question, as they all knew the answer. How many times had that man raged at her for not producing a daughter for her son to marry despite how he had been just as much against their parents’ insanity as she had been? How many times had he cursed that the Longwaters were the only line with a daughter of Targaryen blood despite them being seen as unworthy for a prince due to their bastard ancestry, while in the same breath raging at the Baratheons for only having sons? He had not spared a single thought for the fact that House Martell had a daughter before now due to him hating the Dornish for no reason at all, preferring to send someone he once considered a friend on a wild goose chase to Essos rather than call a Dornishwoman a gooddaughter, but she had been waiting for the inevitable tantrum when he was denied what he decided he wanted.

Amista’s lips twisted into a bitter smile as her head bowed. “No. He was not. What is worse is how Varys told him of some gossip people are already spreading, and reminded him of the fact that Prince Doran is married to a Norvoshi woman. Aerys has chosen to believe that the Dornish are plotting against him with their foreign entanglements. His raging could be heard by our allies even outside of his door. Worse still is how I saw one of his guards take a letter to the ravenry with a letter addressed to Princess Loreza… and Lord Tywin is still at Casterly Rock and shall not be back for at least another moon.”

They expected her to collapse, take this as another blow, she knew that.

Instead, Rhaella laughed. Not an incredulous laugh, but a true laugh of triumph that had not been heard for well over two decades.

Septa Rosalind and Amista both were trying to calm her down, asking what was wrong, seemingly thinking that she had finally cracked after everything, but Rhaella only looked up at them both and smiled.

“You are right, Amista,” she finally said after having managed to control herself some. “Aerys has set in motion events that may lead to the fall of my House. But he will fall for this, for Dorne shall not stand for his no doubt insane and prejudiced orders, and his true colors shall be shown to the entire realm."

_I can finally breathe knowing that he does have an end._

Rhaella did not say those words. She could not go as far as that quite yet. But they gave her comfort all the same.

Later, Septa Ellyn arrived with confirmation that the court was in fact gossiping and questioning what the Martells were up to with not one, but two foreign matches. Someone had also caught onto the fact that this year marked a thousand since Nymeria of Ny Sar had led the Rhoynar to Dorne to escape from the Valyrians that had invaded and destroyed their homes, and had quickly spread that particular tidbit around. The current speculation was that the Dornish were moving towards independence, and some even welcomed that, hoping they rotted in their deserts, cut off from all help from the _upstanding_ denizens of the _civilized_ nations of Westeros outside of their deserts.

Rhaella personally did not know what to think. Dorne could very well wish the Seven Kingdoms to instead be the Six Kingdoms, as they had always only reluctantly acknowledged the Targaryen dynasty and held fast to their own traditions despite mockery for them above the Red Mountains.

But she also personally knew their ruling Princess. Loreza would not do anything to jeopardize her people. If Dorne claimed independence, it would be because they were finally pushed too far. And with the fact that the fool that claimed the throne had lost any diplomatic skills he had before Duskendale, that may well just happen.

Perhaps it was unfilial of her not to care more of what may happen. Her house would be the one to pay the price for Aerys’ actions, after all. At best the Targaryen name would take a hit and no longer be as revered as some of her ancestors had spent their lives to assure that it was.

As far as Rhaella was concerned, it would be nothing that the Targaryen name did not already deserve. She had lost any of her own pride that came from carrying that name when her so-called family sold her to her own brother and forced her to carry a child so soon after flowering all for the sake of a prophecy, uncaring of what it would do to her. Not one of them had spoken up in protest but for her own aunt Rhaelle, who had been all but exiled to Storm’s End to prevent her from interfering, and of her grandmother Betha, who had been at the end of her life when she had been told and had not been able to publicly protest.

So if one asked her, she would tell them that a tarnished name would only be justice for the actions they had already taken in the past, for if those actions had not been taken they would not be in this position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe that Rhaella was locked up in Maegor's Holdfast in 270 if I'm remembering right, the same year that Aerys visited Dorne. I'm going to imagine that she was able to go with him, and it was the final time she visited anywhere but King's Landing.
> 
> I like to imagine that there is a faction in court that supports Rhaella over Aerys. Which includes the two Septas that Aerys makes sleep in her bed because she thinks that she is unfaithful to him because he managed to pick too people that actually believe in the doctrine rather than are corrupt.
> 
> I don't see how the Stormlands wouldn't have at least a little bit of anger towards Aerys over their lords' deaths. Seriously, I doubt Steffon and Cassandra would have ever gone to Essos if Aerys hadn't asked them to. I also feel like it was one of the reasons they jumped at the idea of rebelling a few years from now in canon.
> 
> House Longwaters is a Crownslands house founded by the grandson of Elaena Targaryen, who himself was the legitimate son of her bastard son. I don't see Aerys being enthused by the idea of his son marrying the daughter of a bastard line... even though that's probably what Orys Baratheon was.
> 
> I don't feel like Rhaella, at this point in her life, feels much love for her family. Aegon V washed his hands of the whole business and let her parents marry her to her brother. Duncan is the reason why that witch was there to give that "prophecy" to begin with. We don't even know if Betha Blackwood was alive at that point, which is why I didn't mention her, though I do think that she would protest along with Rhaelle.  
> (Not going to lie, though I think that it wasn't possible depending on when exactly Oberyn was born, I really wish for a fic where Rhaelle, Betha, and Loreza all team up and get Rhaella out of there because they refuse to stand for this.)
> 
> Next chapter: Aerys should probably be glad he's not anywhere near Dorne considering how angry all of the Martells are at his letter.


	9. Demands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aerys manages to piss off everyone in Dorne in one fell stroke.

**279, Sunspear**

“I cannot believe you thought that reading your poison texts to your daughters was a good idea.”

“You know as well as I do that they hate any stories that don’t involve women fighting! I was getting desperate because they wouldn’t go to sleep!”

“Then you should have made some story up. I swear to the Mother, Oby, those girls already-“

Before Elia could continue berating her younger brother as they walked back into the palace, they were cut off by one of their servants rushing into view, breathing deeply when he stopped and gave a short bow. “Your highnesses, the Princess requires your presence in the Ruler’s Solar immediately.”

The Ruler’s Solar. The same one the Ruling Princess or Prince used when carrying out their duties.

“What has happened?” Oberyn asked, as surprised and worried as she was, she could tell by the look in his eyes.

The servant hesitated, saying, “I do not know, my prince. But Princess Loreza was not pleased when she ordered me and my brothers to gather your whole family.”

Exchanging a look with her brother, Elia thanked him and they both all but ran up to the solar. What they found was terrifying.

The solar’s door was thick, with no cracks in it so as to preserve the ruler’s privacy, so they were completely blindsighted when they opened it and heard Princess Loreza’s very loud and extremely angry ranting. She hadn’t realized just how many curses her mother knew until now, as she never really used any regardless of the situation at hand.

Oberyn, despite being as visibly shocked and worried as she was, at least had the presence of mind to quickly close the door behind them, causing the Princess of Dorne to whirl on them.

Everyone told Elia that she was the image of her mother, and she was, at least in appearance. But in expressions, in the way that they expressed anger and other emotions? She believed that Oberyn was the one that resembled her more in that area than she ever could.

As soon as their mother saw them, she let out a breath and softened her face slightly, letting them know her anger had nothing to do with any actions of theirs and finally allowed their uncle to lead her back to her chair, gesturing for them to sit as he did.

As they did, Elia quickly took a look at the rest of her family, as all of the ones currently in Sunspear had arrived before them. Unsurprising, as she and Oberyn had just come back from visiting some shops in the Shadow City.

Mellario was wearing an almost scandalized expression as she started at her goodmother. Somewhat understandable, as Elia was fairly sure that she had never seen Loreza expressing anything other than simple annoyance in the near two years she had spent here.

Doran, sitting next to his wife, looked as openly worried as she had ever seen him. If they hadn’t walked in on their mother acting extremely out of character, the look on her brother’s face would have made her immediately know that something was wrong.

The last person in the room as their cousin Manfrey had accompanied Sylvia to sort out an issue at the Water Gardens, their uncle Lewyn was eyeing his sister warily, as if he had never seen this king of rage from her before. That more than anything else caused her terror, for what could be so terrible for her mother to become so angered that even her brother that had grown up with her had never seen this kind of outburst?

Once her youngest two children were settled, Loreza all but threw a piece of paper at her brother. “Lewyn, you read this abomination, for if I must speak those words aloud I swear I shall follow in Prince Garin of Chroyane’s footsteps and call upon a curse to destroy that despicable creature on that dragon’s throne in front of your eyes.”

No one in the room bothered to hide their shock as they stared at the Princess of Dorne, before they all as one looked at the paper Lewyn was holding and looking like he wished to do anything else but read it.

 _That despicable creature on that dragon’s throne…_ That could only mean one person. Loreza had never liked Aerys, that much was clear from the way she always referred to him in private and used him as examples of what not to do as she raised her children, but she had never outright referred to him as a creature or anything like that. Their people had brought back reports of his increasingly obvious madness, but she still had never expected a word like that to ever be flung at him.

Their uncle reluctantly looked down at the paper, face twisting in fury as he looked at what could be no more than the first line written. “’To the Lady of Sunspear-‘“

“’The Lady of Sunspear?’” Oberyn cut in, looking as disgusted as Elia felt.

“That is the title written on this sheet of paper.”

It wasn’t an incorrect title. The Ruling Princess or Prince of Dorne had long been acknowledged as the Lady or Lord of Sunspear from as far back as the days of Nymeria and Mors. But it was the least of their titles, and one would never use that title before any of their others.

Even from that one part of the letter, Elia already knew where this was going, and knew that things would never be the same.

Perhaps it had been fated to happen though. The Dornish held that the first days of a new year were an auspicious time for a babe to be born, that it meant that a child was destined to bring greatness, and Arianne’s birth had been doubly celebrated for that reason. But they also believed the same to be true for babes born during the last days of the year, that those born then would bring great change to their nation- change that they believed would be good. And both their mother and Doran had been born during those days.

And even past that, as she had discussed with her mother all those months ago, their people would not accept another insult from that Iron Throne. Daeron the Damned’s campaign against Dorne failed not because of the nobility, but because their people refused to accept being treated the way he encouraged his men to. Whatever was in this message, they would not be able to keep it a secret for long, especially as the princess’ extreme displeasure at the news was already known to their servants.

Even with only the first five words written on that piece of paper revealed, Elia already knew the ending to this chapter of Dornish history.

Prince Lewyn’s face only became darker as he continued to read the words on the page. “’I, Aerys Targaryen, Second of my name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, decry your obvious attempts of treason against me with your foreign entanglements.

“’I order you to break this treasonous betrothal for your daughter and escort her to court to provide the only role she has on this earth, to provide Targaryen blooded children to inherit the only throne that will ever matter. She will require no ladies to attend her, as they will only distract her from her place.’”

One would literally be able to hear a pin drop in the silence that followed.

“What.” Oberyn stated, looking not even necessarily angry- though that was sure to follow as soon as the shock set in- so much as incredulous and baffled.

His reaction was completely understandable, and judging by the looks on her sibling’s faces, shared. If that man had actually thought that any lord or lady would willingly send a daughter to their death- for that’s what it would be- he was even more insane than they had originally thought.

Elia herself had no idea what to think. She knew that there was no chance of that so-called dragon’s demands being met. She had no wish to be the cause of a war, but her people would sooner let sand remain the only thing left in their home than ever bow to a foreign king’s demands. Their entire history was proof of that.

But the fact that that person on the throne would dare to believe that he had the power to order this? When Prince Maron had negotiated the terms for Dorne to join the Seven Kingdoms, he had demanded the concession that the Dornish could marry who they wished without interference from the crown, and even before that she knew that when the dragons had held so much power over a noble’s marriage, they had actual dragons to enforce their whims. The fact that Aerys ignored all of this and demanded this of them… it did not bode well.

If anything, her mother’s face darkened in anger even further than it already had. “Read the rest. Let everyone know of how despicable that creature that calls himself a king is.”

If anything, the tension in the room only increased at her words. What could he have ordered that could be worse than he already had?

Her uncle took in a deep breath but continued.

“’In addition to your daughter, your treason against my throne shall end immediately. You shall cease all contact with the unworthy cities the instant you read this. Foreigners have no place in Westeros. To keep the bloodlines pure you shall also-‘“

At that, Lewyn cut himself off as a stricken look engulfed his face, glancing at Mellario and making everyone freeze at that action.

Everyone except for Mellario herself.

The future Princess Consort of Dorne instead clenched her jaw, rose her head proudly, and as she was the closest to Lewyn, simply stood and took the paper from him, continuing to read herself in a calm, even tone that sent shivers down her goodsister’s spine.

“’To keep the bloodlines pure, you shall also annul your son’s marriage to the Essosi whore that bewitched him, sending her and her bastard back to the brothel she was found at.’”

**_“What?!?”_ **

As far back as Elia could remember, Doran had always been the calmest of them all. Oh, he was disapproving and annoyed at times, and had scolded both her and Oberyn more than enough times during their childhood (or even as they got older), but never had he been what she would call furious around them, even after Oberyn’s indiscretions at Castle Yronwood. She might have even privately wondered if he was capable of becoming so furious on occasion.

She almost wished she was wrong, for even though she knew that his anger was not directed at her, she still flinched back at the clear fury in both his voice and face.

Doran stood up, taking the sheet of paper Mellario handed to him and scanning it, face darkening even more as he crumbled it in his hands. “That man… he dares order us to sell him my own sister, to go against what would be best for our nation, and demands me to annul my marriage and calls my own wife a whore and daughter illegitimate?”

Oberyn scoffed next to her, looking almost as furious as Doran. “Are we supposed to be surprised? The fucking Targaryens have always thought they deserved to rule over us even though they have no right. They were probably the ones that led the final charge against our Rhoynish ancestors given the titles they keep trying to claim.”

Instead of ignoring him, their mother gave a bitter smile. “It would be poetic. And it would also prove that they never learn their lesson no matter how many millennia pass, for they keep forgetting that the sun would never deign to bow to something as lowly as a dragon. Only her older sister the moon can make her so much as dim in the sky, but she always rises again, regardless of what demands they try to give her.”

The Princess of Dorne sucked in a sharp breath as if trying to control some of her anger, but even despite that her face was still thunderous as she stood and her voice was colder than the lands beyond the Wall were rumored to be. “This list of demands was put on my desk early this morning. I was engrossed in preparations for the celebrations taking place these next moons, and only opened it no more than half an hour ago. Not even one single other letter from King’s Landing has reached my desk in all those hours. The seal is obviously that Targaryen King’s, and someone impersonating that creature would be just as insulting to us. Unless someone writes to us and offers to come beg on their knees asking for us to forgive this slight in the next five minutes, I will have no choice but to call our bannermen to Sunspear and inform them of these demands.”

If their bannermen came to Sunspear, there was only one outcome possible.

To say Dorne was always united would be a lie. They had their spats over the years- the latest problems their own family had with the Yronwoods was only the latest in the rivalry that had been in place for at least a thousand years, ever since the last of their kings had murdered Mors Martell, even though multiple marriages between their houses had kept it mostly amiable, and that rivalry was only the most visible one in their country- but when it came down to it, when someone from outside their borders attempted to dominate their land, none of them would stand for it. Dorne belonged to the Dornish, not to any other.

Once their people heard of this, if no one from the north made an attempt to deescalate things quickly, nothing short of the dragon king himself coming to beg for forgiveness would appease them. Not after these insults.

And with everything going on, there was only one thing their people would demand in recompense.

Perhaps it was because of their own anger, but none of their family breathed a single word of the possible consequences. None of them wanted a war, she was certain of that. But that did not mean they were willing to let these insults go unpunished.

When no one spoke a word against it, Loreza nodded and spoke, “Doran, stay here. I need you to help me write to our lords and ladies, ordering representatives of each House to gather here in Sunspear as soon as they can make the trip. Lewyn, Oberyn- both of you make sure our guard rotations are acceptable, and make sure they have the updated lists of any and all spies to stop at any moment. And Elia, Mellario, I ask the both of you to make sure we will be prepared to house our people within the month.”

With those order, all of them nodded and left to carry them out.

Or at least, the men in her family did. Elia and her goodsister were not far down the hall when she saw Mellario’s face start to crumble in worry despite how hard she tried to hide it, and immediately pulled her into an empty room, sitting down with her on a chaise and gently holding her hands. “Sister, what is wrong?”

It took a minute, but Mellario sighed and bowed her head, closing her eyes. “I did not expect this to happen when I first saw Doran during that festival in Norvos and chose to introduce myself to him.”

Elia sighed herself, shaking her head. “None of us did.” She bit her lip, not wanting to ask, but she had to know. “Mellario… you know what this may mean, correct?”

Her goodsister gave her a wan smile. “That one day I shall be Princess Consort of an independent Dorne, rather than a Dorne that is part of the seven kingdoms? Yes. I am perfectly aware of that.” She sighed, looking down at their hands. “If I am honest, I am not sure how much will change. Even from my outsider’s point of view, Dorne is independent in all but name.”

“Mellario, you are not an outsider! You may not have been born in Dorne, but you are of House Martell regardless. That so-called dragon’s insult of you is just as enraging as the one against me.”

Mellario stared at her in shock for a brief moment, but soon gave her a smile full of gratitude and squeezed her hands. “Sister Elia… I do not know what I shall do when you leave to rule across the ocean.”

Elia returned the smile, blinking her eyes to try and keep the sudden tears of happiness from escaping. Mellario had never called her sister before now. “You shall manage, I know it. Though perhaps we should set Oberyn up with someone if you are worried about your possible workload?”

Her goodsister laughed at that. “Are you certain? Imagine what a woman who can keep Oberyn in her bed for more than a night would be like.”

“I think you’re underestimating just who he would be attracted to romantically, but I do agree it may be a moot point. Mother certainly won’t try to force him to marry a woman he does not obviously get along with, and the thought of being romantically attracted to a woman that his daughters do not like would never even come close to entering his mind. As I am not entirely sure when a woman would meet the Sand Snakes in an unofficial capacity, that may never happen.”

“Given how his daughters act, it would not surprise me if they meet someone and immediately latch onto them, and their father follow. It would certainly be a welcome act after all of this insanity.”

With that, Mellario rose, straightened her veil, and with a resolute expression walked out of the room.

As Elia followed, she couldn’t help but smile. She had been slightly worried about how Mellario would take living in Dorne, but if this was any indication, she shouldn’t have as much to worry about when she left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Martells when reading the first bit of the letter: ...is this a joke? Is he really that idiotic?  
> Martells upon reading the rest of the letter: OH THAT ******** IS
> 
> Funny, while I was writting this, I worried that I was going a little too over the top with Aerys' stupidity... and then I remembered who I was writing about. I sincerely doubt post Duskendale Aerys even knows what diplomacy is. Aerys is really just that xenophobic and racist.
> 
> Also, if you're wondering who to blame for this being escalated so fast other than Aerys himself? Pycelle! When Aerys sent one of his kingsguard to post the letter for Dorne, Pycelle was busy being a despicable slimeball and breaking his maester vows and posted it as fast as he could to get him out. He only realized that maybe he should have delayed sending it until he managed to tell Tywin several hours later when he heard the gossip going around court and realized he fucked up! Let's hope Tywin gets rid of him for that because we hate him!
> 
> More random headcanons and worldbuiling for Dorne! I actually got the idea that the Dornish consider being born in the last days of a year to be a good omen from Daeron II, who was apparently born on the last day of the year, and he was probably the best king Westeros ever had barring maybe Jaehaerys.
> 
> Speaking of people named Daeron... by Daeron the Damned, they mean Daeron I. The guy that did the Conquest of Dorne. Calling him Daeron the Damned is probably the nicest way you'll ever hear a Dornishman refer to him. (I actually had the headcanon that despite Daeron the Good being well-respected in Dorne, his uncle's actions made the name Daeron very rare in Dorne because the conquest was not kind to say the very least... and then I found out that apparently Lord Vaith's name was that. So that's out.)
> 
> The real reason Loreza kicked everyone but Doran out: she wanted to rant even more and Doran would enable and join her.
> 
> By the way: As I believe the rest of this fic shall take place in 279, I will stop mentioning the year each chapter. We will still get the location though.
> 
> Next chapter: Loreza speaks to her youngest child.


	10. Mother and Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loreza speaks to her youngest son about his misplaced sense of guilt. Also, their bannermen both surprise them and act entirely as expected at the same time.

**Sunspear**

Despite the many guests the palace walls held, Loreza was the only one to take advantage of the Sandship’s sept as the sun sank lower in the sky to rest and allow her sister, the moon, to shine in the sky, leaving her to pray in silence. She gave prayers to all of the Seven, but spent the most time kneeling before the Crone, begging her for the wisdom to carry her country through this time.

 _“Loreza, my beloved daughter, you shall one day rule Dorne,”_ her mother, the Princess Aliandra, had told her in one of her earliest memories. _“It is not an easy position to bear. No matter what you plan, everything can fall to pieces without so much as a hint of wrongdoing on your part. What you must do is stand tall and navigate the blows life throws at you with the strength a Ruling Princess requires.”_

That was the advice she held closest to her heart, that she told her eldest son when he was no more than a wide-eyed child sitting on her knee, just as she had been when her own mother spoke those words to her. Though she doubted her mother had ever expected these particular events to ever take place, no matter how much she had believed the Targaryens to be fools after all of the broken betrothals.

As she had suspected from the moment that she had opened that abominable letter and had read nothing more than that creature insulting her and Dorne itself by only “greeting” her with the least of her titles, Dorne was seething with anger at the demands they had been sent.

The news had leaked out to the Shadow City first. Loreza had not been down to their city herself as she and Doran had spent much of their time going over all of the logistics of what would come, but the rest of her family had. Their people were not even attempting to hide their anger at that creature sitting on that iron throne from them, but listened to their assurances that everything would be alright and reiterated their support of their House.

According to Lewyn, Sunita, one of the oldest and most respected denizens of the city, the one sent most often to the audience chamber asking for them to intervene in an issue in the city, had even walked up to Mellario the first time she had come down to the city with Arianne after the news had broke. The woman had taken her hands and told her that regardless of her birthplace, she was a Princess of Dorne, and all would stand before and protect her and her child from those that wished to harm them.

From everything she had learned of her gooddaughter in the time she had been in Dorne, she knew that Mellario was not big on physical affection. The most she preferred was the occasional hand holding, something that suited Doran fine as he felt the same. But when Sunita told her those words? Mellario had embraced her with tears in her eyes, something Loreza would have had to fought not to do as well had she been there. The thing she wanted most for her son was to have a bride that would support him and that would be accepted by their people, and now she could rest easier at night knowing that her gooddaughter had accomplished that.

Her granddaughters and nephew were worried, most of them too young to understand why they had to be followed by guards if they wished to leave the family wing and why their grandmother or aunt and father or uncle couldn’t spend time with them or even let them into her solar as she occasionally did. The good news was that Obara had appointed herself as the guardian of her younger sisters and cousins and somehow managed to keep them from too much mischief… usually by showing them ways to kill someone. Truly, she was her father’s daughter and grandfather’s granddaughter.

Sylvia had also worked things out so that she could spend most of her time with their large brood of snakelings as she did not have any official duties, and Oberyn managed to somehow do his duties efficiently enough that he could spend time doing absolutely nothing but teaching all of the snakelings even better ways to kill someone who asked for it. Loreza very much regretted dismissing the idea she had last year of sending her youngest to visit with the Orphans in hopes he would find a bride. She had not wished to make it seem like she wanted him to marry only for politics after she had given his older siblings a say in their marriages, but having someone else to help take care of the children and keep her son from following in his father’s footsteps would have been wonderful.

Their bannermen had made fast tracks to Sunspear, and representatives from all of the Houses had arrived in Sunspear barely a moon after she had called them.

As expected, once she had gathered them all and informed them of all the insults and outrageous demands that they had been sent, none of them had been pleased at the actions the king of the six kingdoms had taken.

She had expected some resistance to the idea of breaking away from the iron throne, as it could very well mean another war. With the War of the Ninepenny Kings still in living memory, she herself did not wish for another one and would never expect anyone else to. But her bannermen had all paid careful attention to the writing on the wall, and all seemed to realize that their people would never accept these actions laying down, and none of the lords and ladies had proved foolish enough to let their lines end due to an uprising from the commoners.

To no one’s surprise, Lord Harmen Uller was the first to call for independence. The Ullers were half-mad or worse, that had been said and proven many times over, but they had also been loyal to House Nymeros Martell from the first days of Nymeria and Mors’ unification of Dorne. Princess Nymeria had wed Lord Ulman Uller after Mors’ death because of that loyalty, as she had known that he would support her decisions and champion her daughters’ rights, and over the centuries the Ullers had proven that loyalty countless times over. An insult to House Martell was often seen as equal to one made to House Uller themselves, and this incident had proven that to be as true as ever.

Lord Tremond Gargalen, Loreza’s own goodbrother, had seconded the motion. Given the anger he had shown when she had privately told him of the demands they had been given for he loved his nieces and nephews well and doted on them whenever he saw them, she was slightly impressed that Lord Harmen had managed to beat him in calling for independence first.

Lady Dynora Dayne had also approved the motion, as had Lady Myria, representing her father Lord Jordayne. Both had reason enough to support them, as both Starfall and the Tor were being expanded and bringing their houses more prominence. Part of what she had negotiated for Elia’s bride price was Moraqi ships to defend their borders, and Sunspear and Planky Town could not hope to house them all, nor would it be practical to house their navy in only one area of their country. Both Starfall and the Tor had already seen some trade due to their convenient locations and would be easy enough to expand for their purposes, and their bannermen would not forget that lightly.

(And the navy would be arriving as originally planned, for though she had sent word to Moraq of what had occurred and the possible dangers of coming, Sultan Mehmed had sent word that he and his mother would still arrive as planned. Loreza wondered at his reasoning, but was grateful nonetheless. Dorne needed all of the allies she could get.)

Those four were unsurprising to anyone in the room, but Anders Yronwood also agreeing with her and calling for independence as well? That had not been something that any in the room had expected. Loreza had wondered at his reasons for his sudden agreement, for while she had not expected him to put up an argument against her plans, she had never once thought he would vocally approve. Perhaps the incident with his father had shaken him more than she had thought, and he thought this to be a way to atone for those actions.

Whatever his reasons, it had shocked the rest of their bannermen into agreeance, and none had raised any objections when she ordered both Yronwood and Lord Fowler to close the Boneway and Prince’s Pass to any but the Dornish.

There had been some questions about what would come, but Loreza was confident that she and Doran had answered all of them as well as they could, and none had protested her dismissing them and calling them to the throne room tomorrow afternoon.

She had all but ordered Doran to inform his siblings of what had occurred during the meeting before spending the rest of the night with his wife and daughter, while she herself took time to make sure that all of her preparations for the next day were complete. When she knew she could not justify looking over everything for what had to have been the hundredth time this night alone, she had forced herself to leave her solar and had chosen to go to the sept to pray. If it was not well into the evening, she would have gone down to the sea to pray to Mother Rhoyne as well, for she greatly desire guidance for what was to come.

The Sandship’s sept was open to all who stayed within their walls, so Loreza was not surprised when she heard the doors open and footsteps walk towards her. What did surprise her was who she saw when she finished her entreaties to the Crone and looked up.

“Oberyn?”

Seeing her youngest child walk into a sept without having been called or dragged with someone else had not been something she had expected to happen today.

No matter the fact that it had been a decade since Maron died, she still mourned her love on a daily basis, and she had no doubt she always would until she joined him in the afterlife. Her children helped soothe the pain at times, for they all reminded her of her husband in different ways- Doran in appearance, Elia in her kindness to her family and sense of duty, and Oberyn in the way he looked at the world.

Maron had taught their children that life was what you made of it. One could not always influence the events that happened to them, but how they reacted was up to no one but themselves. He had told them that it was their job to find out the truth in all things, to believe what they will.

All of their children had taken that to heart, but Oberyn was the one to have adopted the philosophy as firmly as his father. Perhaps it was due to the fact that even from the moment he was born he had been naturally inquisitive, always wanting to examine everything and understand how it worked. She swore that all of her gray had come not from ruling a country, but from trying to keep her youngest from getting into too many shenanigans that his sister aided and abetted. But the fact remained that, though he never truly let on and was always respectful to other’s beliefs, Oberyn had never truly pretended to believe in the Seven, nor in any other religion as far as she could tell. He came closest to believing in Mother Rhoyne, but even that was a more distant worship than most others.

Loreza tried to rise and inquire what her son was doing here, but she had been kneeling longer than she had thought and hissed when her body protested her sudden movement.

Before she could make another attempt to stand, her son was there and helped her up, his brows furrowed in worry. “Mama, when did you last sleep?”

“Last night, Oberyn,” she sighed, but allowed him to help her to a bench regardless. “Has anything happened?”

“No.”

“Then why have you come? Have you suddenly found yourself in possession of a bout of piety towards the Seven that has never seen the light of day before?”

Oberyn opened his mouth as if to deny it, but seemingly remembered where they were and closed his mouth and looked away. After a moment, he asked, “Do you blame me for this?”

Loreza blinked at her son, confused. “Why would you ever think you are to blame?”

“Because this all happened because I went to a completely different country we barely knew anything about on a lark.”

She stared at her son. To her, it was clear he had nothing to be blamed for. If anything, he should be thanked for preventing so much pain. This was her youngest son, however. Some might say that she was biased as she was his mother, but no matter the reputation that Oberyn had managed to claim for himself, she knew that at least some of it was just talk. She would not deny that reputations had their uses, but she also wished that more people would realize the good her youngest held within his heart.

Loreza let out a breath, gently taking her son’s hands in her own. “Oberyn, think about things. If you had not gone to Great Moraq, what would have happened? It is just as likely that our hands would have been forced, and Elia would have had to marry Rhaegar, a fate I never wished for her due to who she would have to interact with.”

“You would have found some way to stop it.”

She sighed, closing her eyes. “I would have wished to, yes, but I do not know if I could have. I… you know my health was not the best while you were in Essos, and for a while it looked as if Doran would have to take up the duties of the Ruling Prince earlier than any of us would have wished. It was only through trade with Moraq and the medicines we received from them that I regained the health I had lost. Forcing your brother to have to deal with the issues that would come from refusing a betrothal to the heir to the dragons at the beginning of his rule would not be something I would wish for him.”

Oberyn stared at her with a stricken look. “I didn’t know,” he whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have stayed in Essos so long if I’d known you weren’t well.”

“I did not wish to worry you.”

“That seems like something I should be worried about!”

Loreza sighed again. “The point is that if anything, you should be thanked. We cannot ever know for certain what the future shall hold, but imagining what could have happened to our family and country had you not? There is nothing you should be blamed for in this case.”

She did not have as many memories of her own grandfather as she would like, but when her son smiled at her, it sometimes felt like he was still there.

“Are you actually going to sleep tonight, or should I tell Nym that her abuela wants cuddles and send her your way when she inevitably shows up claiming that Obara kicked her out and Viddy is, according to her, a boy and thus that is why he doesn’t like her clinging to him as he tries to sleep?”

Loreza shook her head in sympathy. “I hope for my poor nephew’s sake that the next child born to our family is a boy.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

She sighed. “Yes. I will sleep tonight with or without my granddaughter soliciting cuddles from me.” She paused, a thought occurring to her. “Though as I wish to give them all some gifts tonight, she is more than welcome to come with me when I go to bed, as I would not mind the company.”

That got her a wary look from her son. “Gifts?”

She waved a hand at him. “Do not worry. All the gifts are identical so you don’t have to deal with Tyene crying that her sisters got something more interesting than what she did in her opinion. No, I only wish to give our newest princesses circlets to wear tomorrow.”

As she had half expected, silence followed that statement, and she gave her son a flat look. “Please inform me of your objections to legitimizing your daughters so I may enlighten you of your foolishness.”

Oberyn shifted uncomfortably next to her, looking anywhere but at her eyes. Loreza simply waited, knowing that it would not be long until he cracked.

Finally, he sighed, running a hand over his face. “There’s freedom in bastardy. I don’t want them to be forced into anything they do not want, and there is less of a chance of that happening if they’re not.”

Loreza would give her son credit. That was a legitimate concern, she would admit. She did have a response for that, however, having expected something like that. “Oberyn, my son, do you truly believe that anyone could force your daughters into anything? They would run off to Essos at the barest whisper of someone trying to force them to do something they do not wish for. Nor do they hold much chance of becoming a Ruling Princess if the gods are at all merciful. Obara is currently fifth in line to the Sunchair, and I pray that distance will only increase as Doran and Mellario have more healthy children. Legitimization would come with more duties, yes, but as the children of a third child they would still have the freedom to choose their own fates. That would not change.”

Oberyn sighed again, but Loreza knew her son well. She knew that, even if not fully convinced, he took her words to heart. “I’ll leave it up to them. Explain to them what it will mean. Obara and Nymeria are old enough to understand, and they’ll help find ways to make Tyene understand. Whatever they decide, I’ll accept.”

“That I will do.”

That agreement reached, Loreza started to stand, her son immediately leaping up and offering a hand to help her up, which she took with a small smile.

(She did end up allowing not only Nym, but Tyene as well to sleep with her that night. Feeling the two warm bodies press against her reminded of when Elia and Oberyn were small and wanted to cuddle their parents. It reminded her of everything they had worked for, and what they continued to fight for.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly see Oberyn as the type of person that is legitimately someone you should tread carefully with, but who his family can't take seriously because they actually interact with him everyday and have seen him be a ridiculously soft dad/uncle to all of the little snakes running around.
> 
> House Uller: I really, really, REALLY like the idea that the Ullers are like, the anti-Boltons. They're creepy and one does not simply walk into the Hellholt without an invitation, yes, but they're also kind of ride or die for the Martells a lot of the time. I mean, the Ullers were on Nymeria and Mors' side during the unification of Dorne without being fought against, and Nymeria wouldn't have married the Lord Uller if he wasn't loyal. It wasn't meant as Ellaria foreshadowing at all, though I guess it can be interpreted that way.
> 
> I've seen both Starfall and the Tor mentioned in other fics as ports, and they're both in fairly convenient locations, so expanded ports for navy it is!
> 
> If you're curious, I headcanon Oberyn to be agnostic, not atheist. He's not denying the possibility of there being something more, but he also doesn't particularly have any urge to worship any gods he's learned of.
> 
> Everyone, please take a moment to send prayers that poor Ovid survives to adulthood with any of his dignity intact because he's surrounded by all of his female cousins. Quentyn won't be born for like, two to three more years, and he'll be getting at least two more female cousins before then.
> 
> If you're curious, Nym loves and demands cuddles the most, then Tyene, then Arianne, then reluctantly Ovid, and then Obara really wishes that her younger sister would let her sleep alone without a fight.
> 
> Next chapter: Loreza gathers their people to the throne room for an announcement.  
> (Seriously, I am so excited to get the next chapter out you don't even know.)


	11. Greeting the Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out that Loreza is a good speaker, that Dorne will in fact declare themselves free from the rule of kings, and that Obara does in fact own a dress.

**Sunspear, Year 1000 After the Coming of the Rhoynar**

“Why did your middle daughter barge into our mother’s private solar where I was discussing what will happen today with her, declare that she had found us, and then run off as fast as she had arrived?”

Oberyn didn’t even look up at his older brother, instead choosing to continue to stare pensively at the fabric he had laid out on his bed. “You condemn Nym for barging in, and yet you do the exact same thing to me. I thought our parents taught you better than that!”

Doran sighed at him and was probably giving him a look, but he didn’t care enough to turn and see what kind of look it was. “You are as difficult as they are. It must be genetic.”

“Does that mean Arianne will end up being thirty years old and spend so much time working on becoming the best ruling princess she can be that she’ll completely ignore you trying to get her to marry and then show up from a trip to Essos pregnant with a husband?”

The following silence made Oberyn actually look up at his brother and found him frozen with a vaguely horrified look on his face. He did the only thing he could do in this situation: laugh.

Doran just glared at him until he finished laughing. Which took a while, because it really was hilarious. Doran couldn’t even turn it back on him because they all knew that Obara would sooner stab a man than marry one, and he would honestly pity any man that thought he could keep up with Nym. Or woman for that matter. Tyene was barely one, but considering how much her older sisters doted on her she’d no doubt be the same.

Finally, after Doran exasperatedly repeated his original question, Oberyn shrugged. “I figured telling Nym to keep track of where everyone was would keep her out of too much trouble. I really only meant her to check on her sisters and cousins, but apparently she interpreted it to mean everyone in our family. According to her Obara’s, where else, at the training grounds and Ovid followed her as he usually does. She apparently wasn’t happy because she specifically went there to get away from her younger sisters and cousins. Arianne and Tyene went with their nursemaid to the gardens, and apparently Mellario is shaving and Tais wouldn’t even let her in the room because of it.”

Doran sighed. “I thought she wouldn’t need to shave for another three days, and not until an hour after she finishes dinner as she usually does.”

“You know exactly when she does that down to the hour?”

“As I am barred from my own bedchamber the entire time she does, which can take more than an hour, I need to know.”

“Does Mellario enforce that, or does Tais?”

“Tais.”

Oberyn gave a grimace of sympathy. Mellario’s cousin was a force to be reckoned with. He was almost more terrified of angering her than his own mother…

Doran apparently took the news of what his wife was doing as a sign that he could make himself comfortable on one of the piles of pillows in his room. He didn’t give him permission to do that, and he could very well go spend time with his own daughter and her favorite cousin. Before he could mention that, his brother asked, “Do you truly need all of these hours to prepare your outfit for tonight?”

“Nope. I’m just trying to get it sorted out early because I’m probably going to be the one that has to force Obara into a dress.”

“…Obara owns a dress?”

“Apparently. I think Elia made it for her and snuck it into her wardrobe when she wasn't looking.”

As if summoned by the mere mention of her, Elia herself suddenly walked in. Or rather, Nym barged in, dragging her aunt with her. “I found Aunt Elia!” she beamed, letting go of her aunt’s hand and hugging her father’s leg before insistently plopping down on her uncle’s lap. Doran just sighed, for they had all realized by now that it was easier to just let themselves be a chair for Nym to sit on than bother to try and force her off. Oberyn had to wonder if they maybe coddled her too much when she first came to Dorne…

Elia looked as if she was about to say something, but instead blinked upon looking at all of the clothes laid out on his bed and shook her head. “Oby, even for you this is bad. You do _not_ need all of these hours to choose an outfit regardless of what’s going on.”

“No, I don’t. But considering how I’ll probably be the one that has to convince Obara to wear a dress, it’s probably best to decide now.”

Silence, and then the youngest person in the room asked in a very confused tone, “’Bara knows what a dress is?”

Elia rolled her eyes, though Nym couldn’t see it as she was facing away from her. “Yes. I was the one to measure her so I could make her one. And she will wear it or I will tell her how sad I am that she doesn’t appreciate my work.”

“I’m using that. Why are you here anyway?”

“I was looking for Ashara and our cousin Myria, but Nym here found me first.”

“She looked lost, so I decided she should be founded!” Nym beamed. She stood up and ran over to the door, turning around and saying, “I’m going to find ‘Rene and Ari! I think they were making flower crowns!” before running out as her family stared at her.

After a moment, Doran stated, “I have been questioning it since you two were born, but I have never understood how children have so much energy.”

Oberyn snorted. “They probably use it all as kids so they never have any as adults.”

“Perhaps I would believe that hypothesis had anyone but you said it.”

Oberyn gave him a wounded look, as he knew he had calmed down considerably as he got older. He didn’t run around chasing everyone with snakes anymore. No, his own little sand snakes did that for him, meaning he got to sit back and take a nap.

Elia just ignored them both, instead choosing to walk over and stand next with him, peering at the clothes on the bed with a pensive look. “Doran, what colors have Mellario chosen for you to wear tonight?”

“Why do you assume that Mellario chose my outfit?” That particular dumb question just got him a deadpan stare from the both of them, making him scowl and mutter that it was red.

The only daughter of this generation of Martells turned to Oberyn and said, “I was planning to wear that orange gown I have been working on for the past moon.”

He immediately caught on to her meaning, picking up all but one of the outfits on the bed to dump back in his chests. “Gold it is then.”

Doran snorted. “Elia, are you certain you must leave? You have cut down his usual stall time by hours.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Yes you are,” came the immediate response from both of his older siblings, causing him to pout at them because he really wasn’t, they were just being mean.

Elia just rolled her eyes at him before turning back to their brother. “Yes, I must. Though I am certain you will be able to pick up the slack. I am certain that helping mama rule Dorne will be a cakewalk in comparison to trying to help our dear younger brother keep to a schedule.”

“I’m right here.”

“I know!”

“…Don’t you two have better things to do than stand here and invade my private sanctuary?”

“As Mellario will undoubtedly not be done for quite awhile, no.”

“And I have no idea where Ashara and Myria could be and have no desire to make the trek down to the guest chambers if they are there.”

Oberyn sighed and threw himself on his bed, resigning himself to being thwarted in his plans to take a nap before having to deal with getting his daughters ready.

And they would be able to discuss what may come next, something that they had with the rest of the family, but not only between the three of them.

All and all, it was a pleasant afternoon, and it took Obara barging in and asking why Nym kept acting so shocked that she owned a dress to remind them that they should probably get ready.

* * *

Oberyn had known what to expect when he walked into the throne room for what would be the defining moment of Dorne for the next few centuries with his daughters trailing behind him, Obara and Nym both carefully holding onto Tyene’s hands to keep her from falling and all three in red, orange, and gold with simple circlets crowning their brows, but even he had to take a moment to just take it in.

Princess Loreza Nymeros Martell was sitting on Nymeria’s throne, the seat that made up half of the Sunchair of Dorne, for Nymeria and Mors had married as equals and had designed their thrones to remind everyone of that fact. Her Rhoynish gown was all oranges, golds, and reds, the colors of their House and the sun itself, but despite the colors seemingly fitting a sunset more he thought that the dress was artfully designed to look more like the dawn. That wasn’t the most striking thing she wore, however. The thing that caught one’s eye first was the crown she wore, that had golden spears mixed with blazing suns- the same one that Princess Meria had worn during her life, and the one she was said to have worn when she told Rhaenys Targaryen that Dorne would never bow to a Valyrian king.

Mors’ throne stood empty, as it had always been since their father had died near a decade ago, but Doran stood before it, dressed in the red of the sun and with a spear in his hands. Mellario stood next to him in the same shade of red, wearing a golden tiara made up of interlocked suns that matched the circlet her husband wore. Arianne was standing next to her mother and holding her hand, wearing a lovely orange dress, a simple circlet crowning her brow as she stared out at the assembled court in awe.

Oberyn led his daughters to stand next to Elia. His sister was wearing the famous (or infamous depending on who was asked) tiara she had been sent as a courting gift by her betrothed. If he had to guess, he would have also said her gown was made out of an orange YiTish silk she had received the same way. The rest of her jewelry was undoubtedly Dornish, but the tiara alone would remind everyone that they had allies outside of Westeros.

He was still torn on his mother’s wish to legitimize his daughters despite knowing that Obara and Nym had agreed and Tyene, despite barely being a year old, had already started planning things to do with Arianne that they could accomplish as princesses (mostly making a pink city like Sar Mell was said to have been), but he had to admit that reminding their people of the fact that the Martells were not few in number anymore was very effective, as while only their mother’s children and grandchildren were on the dais, both his uncle Lewyn with Sylvia and Ovid and their cousin Manfrey with his wife were clearly visible to the side.

Once the room had quieted and everyone- meaning the nobility, the representatives the Orphans of the Greenblood had sent, and the people of the Shadow City- had time to take in the picture they made, the Ruling Princess of Dorne spoke.

“A moon ago, while deep in preparations for my daughter’s marriage and the millennium celebration of the Coming of the Rhoynar, I received a list of demands from the Targaryen king. You no doubt have heard what they were by now, but I would have Ricasso read the insults sent regardless.”

Oberyn hadn’t been in the meeting mother had held with their bannermen the day before- only Doran and Mellario, the future ruling prince and princess consort, had, though he had been informed of everything discussed regardless- but clearly she had kept the exact wording a secret to those not of their family until now, for their seneschal was barely able to finish reading it before the throne room almost burst with the anger their people expressed.

Princess Loreza said nothing, instead choosing to simply hold up a hand for silence. Slowly, the room quieted, though visible anger remained on many faces even as she continued speaking.

“A thousand years ago, the Dornish calendar was started when Princess Nymeria of Ny Sar led the Rhoynar to Dorne and landed not far from Sunspear, where she and Mors Martell formed an alliance and began their plans to unite Dorne under their rule. Though Prince Mors did not live to see the end of their unification, it was both of their dreams that led to the Dorne we live in and love today.

“Despite having found a new home, the Rhoynar still remembered how the Valyrians had forced them from their homeland, as staying with Mother Rhoyne would mean becoming slaves to those that assumed they had the right to rule over them when the reality was that they had none. Their memories persisted over the centuries, and when the last remnants of those same dragonlords thought they could do what their ancestors could not and conquer our people came to our gates, we refused to give away our freedom. We fought to keep our freedom with all our effort, and proved over and over that though they could occupy our castles they will _never_ break us.

“It was only when Ruling Prince Maron Nymeros Martell negotiated with Daeron the Good that we allowed ourselves to become part of the Seven Kingdoms with our own Princess Myriah becoming their Queen. Dorne was not won in conquest. She was given in exchange of those above the Red Mountains acknowledging our rights, and with the assurance that Dorne would remain Dorne no matter who sat on their Iron Throne.”

At that, Princess Loreza stood, face hardened with anger and resolve as she walked to the steps of the dais and faced their people.

“It has not even taken a hundred years for a Targaryen to break the contract that his ancestor made, to spit on the assurances that Princess Myriah’s husband gave that told us that we would be able to run our country as we see fit. Aerys, the second of his name to claim to rule Dorne, has proven that he does not care to honor any vows made between our nations. He demands that I sell my only daughter to him, to make her a slave to his family, for what else could he have meant when he decreed that she would need no attendants as they would distract from what he believes would be her place? He also orders me to dissolve my son’s marriage and send both my gooddaughter and granddaughter away for the ‘crime’ of bearing Essosi blood, calling them a whore and a bastard.”

The room was silent as their Princess nodded at Lewyn and Manfrey, both of whom immediately walked forward, unraveling a Targaryen banner in front of her.

“Dorne shall not stand for these insults. The Targaryens have proven they will not honor any vows their house has made. I will not be the fool that Morian Martell was and refuse to risk our people outside of our borders, but I will not allow our people to suffer under their rule for so much as a second longer.”

With that, Ricasso handed her a lit torch. Holding it up high, Ruling Princess Loreza Nymeros Martell decreed, “In the thousandth year after the coming of the Rhoynar, Dorne is a fully independent kingdom once more. Let any who tries to take this away from us die from our greatest ally, the sun, or die pierced on our spears.”

To uproarious cheers from all, the Princess held the torch to the banner, letting it burn to ash in front of their eyes.

Oberyn couldn’t hold back the grin that crossed his face if he tried. He looked forward to seeing the groveling those north of the Red Mountains did as they tried to reverse these actions, refusing to realize that it was impossible now. The time for placating Dorne was long past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I lied about no more dates. But I think this is fitting because I really can't see Dorne use the calendar the first Aegon started because of what should be obvious reasons, so I thought I'd make it clear.
> 
> Look me in the eyes and tell me that you can see Obara getting married because I really can't. She's married to her collection of spears already. Not sure about Tyene yet, but I half want to write something where Nym goes and visits her aunt in Moraq and comes back with one of the Han cousins following her around with heart eyes because Oby's reaction would be hilarious.
> 
> Upon looking at the wiki for something, apparently the throne room of Sunspear has just one throne if any art is to be believed. I have decided that doesn't make sense because Nymeria and Mors really did rule as equals and they'd want to emphasize it.
> 
> I legitimately have no idea whether it's spelled Myriah or Mariah, but when I checked the wiki used the former so... Also to the Dornish the title of Princess means more than Queen ever will, so they refer to her that way when among themselves.
> 
> Morian Martell was an idiot who ruled during Jaehaerys I's reign that decided that he should build a navy and invade the Stormlands, and got his entire army that came with him wiped out because he didn't bother to think that maybe they had spies in his court. They apparently call it the Fourth Dornish War, but I wouldn't exactly call a single battle a war... but seriously, generations of Dornish have been taught that this was monumentally stupid, and his own people probably thought it was as he apparently hired pirates and stuff to do it.
> 
> Anyway, guys, how the heck am I supposed to write something without Loreza in it now??? I love her more than I expected to when I started this. She's just amazing and I love her and want her to be happy.
> 
> Next chapter: Ellaria!!!! <3


	12. New Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyene would like to point out that she found Ellaria first, thank you very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the longest chapter by quite a bit. I blame lingering anger over the fact that they just completely replaced Ellaria with a impostor in the show after s4 BECAUSE THAT WAS NOT ELLARIA. ELLARIA WOULD NOT HAVE DONE THOSE ACTIONS. THEY JUST FLAT OUT REPLACED HER WITH SOMEONE ELSE.
> 
> Sorry, I think that's the thing that makes me the most mad about what the show did to Dorne >.<
> 
> Anyway, a bit of an update: Mondays will be the official, fixed update day for this story, but if I get a chapter finished by Friday and good progress on the next one, you will get an update that day too.
> 
> Now, on to the chapter!

**Sunspear**

Due to how much had changed, saying that the last fortnight had been as chaotic as a whirlwind may be an understatement, so who would blame Ellaria for choosing to get away from it all for even a short time by taking her horse out for a ride around Sunspear during the late afternoon?

She and all of Dorne had known that something had happened when her father had received a letter from Princess Loreza, ordering him or a representative of their House to Sunspear by the moon’s end. Harmen Uller had all but literally dropped everything, dragged her uncle back from doing who knows what in the desert, and brought them to Sunspear as fast as they could travel. Which was quicker than one would expect actually, for the Ullers did not use litters to travel unless one was considerably pregnant or injured and none of them were. He had been pleased that they had beaten all of the Stony Dornish houses there, though was less pleased that they hadn’t been the first despite the fact that there were four keeps closer to Sunspear than the Hellholt was. Including Salt Shore. Whose current lord was their Princess’ goodbrother.

Once they had gotten to Sunspear, Ellaria had mostly been left to her own devices, and for a while had wondered why her father had even brought her with him. Her status as a bastard had never mattered in the Hellholt from the moment she had arrived, especially as she was the only child their house would likely have until she herself bore a child, but Ulwyck, her uncle, had come with them. He was still officially her father’s heir, and thus he would be the one to join any meetings on their house’s behalf.

Perhaps Harmen Uller had some ability to see the future as terrifying as that thought was, for having her come to Sunspear proved to have it’s uses.

She had been in the solar their family had been given while her father went to the meeting the Princess had called, simply reading one of the tomes she had taken from Sunspear’s library, this one written in Valyrian about the city of Norvos that had no doubt come with Princess Mellario, when the door had slammed open to reveal her extremely angry and ranting father.

It had taken longer than she had wished to understand what had been revealed due to his ranting, but once she did she herself was almost as angry. How dare someone that claims himself a king, one of Valyrian descent at that, order them to give up their princesses?!? Had she been in Princess Loreza’s position she would have done no differently, though she herself would admit that she would not have been able to make anywhere near as effective a speech when their independence was declared, nor arranged her family to make as effective a picture as she had. She was not able to do the scene justice in her eyes, but she had sketched it upon retiring to her rooms after the feast regardless, and planned to turn it into a painting when she had gathered the paints needed despite her perceived lack of skill.

Her presence had a point after Dorne became a fully independent kingdom once more, for her father had wasted no time before asking for an audience with their Princess to ask that she be legitimized, something that she had immediately granted without any fuss.

Ellaria had known that one day she was likely to never be called a Sand again, but she had not thought she would be Ellaria Uller for decades, if ever as Ulwyck was only eight years her senior.

It had been three days since it had happened, and she was still in shock.

It was due to this that she had chosen to take some time for herself. Her uncle was still the heir, as he had been eighteen and expected to one day inherit the Hellholt before they had even learned of her existence, but her now officially bearing the Uller name? That had brought her interest from some parties she had never quite had to deal with before now. It disgusted her a little, for some now looked at her with a calculation she disliked. As if they had any sort of chance with her even now, nor did it change anything but what name she used.

Ellaria shook her head, doing her best to dislodge those thoughts. She had no wish to think of those fools now, and so did her best to just admire the gardens as she walked towards the stables, mentally making a note to see if she could expand the Hellholt’s own. Just because the Hellholt was the place it was did not mean they couldn’t have enjoyable gardens for their family to walk through. It might even help lure unsuspecting guests into a false sense of security, and her father would no doubt leap at the suggestion.

It was as she was admiring an exotic flower she was certain she had never seen before that what might be the most pivotal moment of her life occurred.

A little girl that couldn’t be more than a year old with light blonde hair and fair skin only lightly touched by the sun tottered into the same area of the gardens, staring at all of the flowers with wide blue eyes. As she walked towards some of the hibiscus plants, the toddler tripped and fell, immediately letting out a wail.

Ellaria didn’t hesitate. She had leapt into motion the instant she saw the little girl start to fall, and reached her soon after the cries started, kneeling in front of her and gently helping the girl sit up. “Shh, shh, it will be alright,” she cooed at her, gently stroking surprisingly soft blonde hair. “Can I see your hands?” she asked, taking out a handkerchief she herself had sewed shortly before they had come to Sunspear.

The little girl sniffed and looked at her as warily as such a young child could, but obediently held her hands out. Thankfully, she wasn’t hurt and only had some dirt covering her palms and skirt, but she still teared up.

Ellaria did her best to gently wipe the dirt off, and to distract the girl softly started asking her questions. “My name is Ellaria. What is yours?”

The toddler sniffed and replied in a shy tone, “Tyene.”

Ellaria smiled at her. “A lovely name for a lovely girl,” she said, poking her with a finger and drawing out a giggle.

“Yours’s pretty too!” Tyene beamed at her.

She laughed. “Thank you! What are you doing in the gardens, Tyene?” she asked, examining the tiny hands and confirming that all the dirt was gone.

“Pretty flowers!” she replied, pointing at the ones she had been looking at originally.

“The garden is full of pretty flowers, that is right,” Ellaria smiled at her, opening her arms in an invitation that her new acquaintance took, standing up with the child in her arms so she could better see the flowers.

When Tyene was done giggling and examining the flowers herself, the toddler grabbed one of the hibiscus flowers that had fallen off of it’s stem and immediately presented it to her. “For ‘Larie!” she declared with a bright smile.

Ellaria practically melted at the action, immediately returning the smile and tucking the offered flower behind her ear. “Thank you!” She couldn’t deny that she felt the urge to keep this adorable little girl, but unfortunately realized it wasn’t possible. Tyene had Dornish features to her eyes, and the blond hair and blue eyes were not unheard of in the Red Mountains. She was more than likely a noble’s child, one that would probably want her back. With this in mind, she reluctantly asked, “Where is your family?”

“Sissies see horsies!”

“Your sisters were going to the stables?” At Tyene’s nod, Ellaria smiled at her. “That’s where I was going as well. Would you like to accompany me and see my own horse?” The toddler enthusiastically agreed, and the two of them made their way to the stables, occasionally stopping to look at a plant that caught their eyes.

It was only when they got to the stables that she realized that she had failed to ask Tyene her family name, and was thus completely blindsighted when everything unfurled upon their arrival.

 _Prince Oberyn,_ of all the people she could have encountered, was standing outside of the stables talking to two extremely worried girls that resembled him… and who looked quite a bit like the toddler she was carrying. Her suspicions were confirmed when Tyene beamed upon seeing him and exclaimed, “Papa!”

The prince whirled around, face softening in relief when he laid eyes on his daughter. “Tyene, what did I tell you about wandering around alone?” he asked as walked towards them.

“Nothing,” Tyene replied with the most innocent look she could muster, but that even Ellaria, who had only known her for not even half an hour, could see through.

Prince Oberyn sighed, taking his daughter from her and holding her in his own arms. Instead of continuing to scold the toddler, he turned to her with a smile. “Thank you for finding Tyene, Lady…?”

“Ellaria San- Uller, your highness,” she replied, having to cut herself off before referring to herself with the bastard surname. With a start, she realized that this was the first time that she had to introduce herself after being legitimized. Doing her best to not let the sudden realization show, she smiled back at him and replied, “It was no issue. Your daughter is a pleasure to be around.”

Looking at him, Ellaria was suddenly struck by how handsome he really was. She had known before of course, having seen it for herself these past days even if this was the first time she had interacted with him and knowing that his appearance had never been the thing spoken of negatively, but seeing him holding his youngest daughter in his arms with such care and love? That just made him more attractive in her eyes. A man who so obviously cared for children was much more to her liking than one who thought only of himself.

Of course, she was distracted from that observation when the oldest girl’s- Obara, if she was remembering right- eyes lit up from where she was standing warily by her father. “You’re from the Hellholt? Do you really have that stupid dragon’s bones in the dungeons?”

“Well, your ancestor, Princess Deria, sent the head back to the man who thought himself a king, but yes, we do still have Meraxes’ bones, though they’re on the road leading to our front gates rather than in the dungeons, for what good would they do hidden away?”

All three of the little girls stared at her in wonder, and the middle one, Nymeria, she knew that name for certain, tugged at her father’s trousers. “Papa, we are going to visit the Hellholt. I wanna color on the stupid dragon bones and make them look less stupid.”

Ellaria couldn’t help but laugh. “You are welcome to visit, princess, but I promise you that you don’t need to deface those bones any more than they have been. It has been a tradition for all Uller children to throw paint at them when their parents take them out to see them the first time. There is still a lovely coat of yellow visible from when it was my turn in fact.”

“Still wanna.” Both of her sisters nodded in agreement while their father looked everywhere but them as he obviously tried not to laugh. As she knew that all three of the current generation of Martells had done the same when they had visited before she had come to the Hellholt, he no doubt saw himself in them.

“I doubt that anyone would have an issue with it given everything that has been going on, so you are more than welcome to.”

All three of the sand snakes cheered before Prince Oberyn sat Tyene back down. “Weren’t you three supposed to be in your lessons now?”

Obara looked away, Tyene put on her most innocent and clueless face, but Nymeria just beamed at him and said, “Nope! If we don’t show up, there are no lessons!”

“Both of your cousins showed up. You should have brought them with you then.”

They all pouted, but obediently started walking back towards the palace… or at least the oldest two tried to until Tyene latched onto Ellaria’s legs and started crying that “’Larie promised horsie!” and refused to leave.

Before any of her family could say anything, Ellaria managed to dislodge Tyene enough to kneel down in front of her and gently take her small hands in her own. “Tyene, I promise that if you go to your lessons, I will show you my horse tomorrow. Perhaps we could even go on a ride then if you dress for it- that is, if your father has no issue with that,” she said quickly, looking up at the prince to find him staring at them with an odd expression on his face.

Before she could even so much as furrow her brows in confusion, Prince Oberyn’s expression cleared and he smiled, so she wrote it off as her imagination. “I have no issue with it if the Lady Ellaria is willing.”

Tyene beamed and agreed and started toddling away after giving both her and her father a hug, but before she could get far Nymeria looked between the two adults and suggested with a sly grin, “Or how ‘bout she joins us for dinner tonight?”

The littlest person there immediately ran back and begged her to have dinner with them, only letting go of her leg when both she and her father agreed, then skipped off with a giggling Nymeria and a slightly wary Obara that kept glancing at her, though she said nothing.

As soon as they were out of earshot and weren’t about to come back, Ellaria turned to the man next to her and voiced one of her observations. “My prince, I am not sure why you are the one with the reputation. Your daughters are more dangerous than you could ever be.”

Prince Oberyn laughed at that, a full bodied one that still belayed his pride in his daughters. “I am glad to know that I have succeeded in that goal of mine, my lady.”

“Oh, I’m not a lady,” Ellaria replied automatically, before realizing what she said and muttered a Rhoynish curse under her breath. She had the irrational urge to curse having been legitimized for she was unable to use many of her favorite line now.

Instead of laughing at her, Prince Oberyn gave her a sympathetic look. “It hasn’t sunk in yet?”

“It has only been three days, and believe it or not, this is the first time it has truly come up since then.”

“Probably not comparable, but Nym did have the realization two days ago that she couldn’t be called Lady Nym anymore and almost started crying. She was more attached to that moniker than we had expected.”

Ellaria laughed, causing him to grin at her. “She sounds delightful.”

“They all are,” Prince Oberyn agreed with no small amount of pride in his voice. “Though if you have no wish to be called a lady, I have no issue with that- so long as you don’t keep calling me prince.”

She blinked at that, but shrugged. “I believe I can do that… Oberyn.”

His smile made her realize exactly how he had fathered three children already despite being the same age as her. That combined with seeing him with said children definitely gave her a certain interest in him, but she refused to do anything about it at this juncture. She had her own pride to consider, after all, and said pride did not allow her to throw herself at any passingly attractive person she saw.

Oberyn looked down at her riding outfit before glancing at the stables. “You were going for a ride?”

She shrugged. “Just around Sunspear. I thought it would be nice to get away from all of the chaos for a couple hours… or at least the chaos my father and uncle brings.”

“I don’t know your father, but from what I’ve heard from Doran about your uncle as they knew each other when they were both in the Water Gardens… I can’t blame you.”

“I love them dearly, but they can be difficult sometimes.”

“Families are like that. Would you mind some company on your ride?”

Ellaria thought about it, debating about the pros and cons of not being alone as she had originally planned, and decided that she wouldn’t mind getting to know him more, especially if his daughters were so insistent that she join them for dinner for whatever reason. “No, I would not, just so long as you can manage to keep up with me.”

The grin she got in return was nothing short of feral. “I delight in your challenge.”

And he did. Ellaria won the resulting race, but it was a very near thing, and had to give him her compliments on his riding regardless, which turned into an innuendo-laden conversation that he no doubt enjoyed just as much as she did.

Their ride ended up being much longer than she had originally planned as they kept finding things to talk about, and the sun was well on it’s way to setting by the time that they returned to the stables. By the time she got back to her chambers, she didn’t have much time to do anything more than quickly wipe off the travel dust that had settled on her and put on a simple dress before heading up to have dinner with the youngest branch of the Martell family.

The guards had obviously been informed of the invitation she had been given, as they simply nodded at her and did nothing to prevent her from walking up to the prince’s solar.

Ellaria was the last one to arrive, for as soon as she walked through the door she was almost bowled over by an excited one-year-old. “’Larie!”

She laughed, leaning down to pat the little girl’s head as it was the only part of her she could easily get to with her clinging to her leg. “Hello, Tyene.”

Tyene beamed at her, grabbing her hand and almost dragging her over to where the rest of her family was lounging on some pillows by where some servants where laying out food for their dinner, insistently plopping herself down on her lap when she sat down.

Before anyone else could say anything Nymeria- Nym, that’s how everyone referred to her- cut in and asked with a pout, “Why does Ty get to sit on your lap?”

Obara didn’t put any effort into trying to hide her eyeroll from her sister. “Because Tyene isn’t four and shouldn’t have outgrown her clingy phase by now, that's why.”

At that, Oberyn immediately grabbed Nym and dropped her on the other side of him so he was blocking her path to her older sister. Judging by the flat look on his face and practiced movements, he had to do this a lot, and he also immediately changed the subject before either of his daughters could say anything, inquiring as to how the Hellholt was for he hadn’t been there since he was ten and his father had taken him and his siblings on a trip to visit all the Dornish houses.

Ellaria would freely admit that this night had been one of the best of her life. Obara was wary at the start, but it slowly receded over the course of the evening and while she was still the quietest of them all she still freely contributed to the conversation. Nym flitted from conversation topic to conversation topic, wanting to know everything… and was mortified when she to be reminded to close her mouth when talking. Tyene sat on her lap and needed help eating at her age, but she was so sweet that it was no bother. And as for their father… well. She certainly wasn’t about to refuse his offer to “have a drink with him” once he had made certain that the sand snakes wouldn’t be able to stage a breakout from the nursery tonight.

As Ellaria watched the little family be ushered out by Oberyn, both Nym and Tyene giving her a hug as they left while Obara muttered that the evening hadn’t been bad, she couldn’t help but feel wistful. She prayed that she would one day have children and a partner that was like these four.

Knowing that it would take Oberyn a while to come back knowing who he was dealing with, she took the chance to quickly dart back down to her own quarters and grab a robe and a shift. She wouldn’t be needing them tonight, but she would prefer not to be caught unawares, even if she was no doubt in the most secure part of Sunspear. If there was one thing that she had learned during her time at the Hellholt, it was that nowhere was truly safe.

When she came back, her partner for the night was still gone. Not willing to actually enter the bedchamber without permission quite yet, she placed the folded clothes on a convenient chaise and chose to spend the time looking at the impressive collection of books and scrolls the younger prince of Dorne had on his walls.

The main Sunspear library had more books and was more impressive as one would expect, but that did not mean this private one was in any way disappointing. Many of them were written in Westerosi, but there were still quite a few in Rhoynish, and even in Valyrian or in a writing she did not recognize. Moraqi, perhaps? All of Dorne knew that Oberyn was the one to have stumbled upon Great Moraq and that he had spent a year there, so it would not be out of place. Perhaps she should ask him to teach her some basic Moraqi before that party got to Sunspear, for it would only be to her benefit.

It was as Ellaria was engrossed in a book from Volantis that the actual owner of the rooms came back. Before he could say anything, she asked while holding up the tome, “Would you mind if I borrowed this? I have never seen this particular book before.”

Oberyn craned his neck to look at the cover as he pulled out a bottle of wine. “Probably because that’s relatively new. Got it when I picked Nym up from her mother on my way back from Dorne a couple years ago. And no, I don’t mind.”

She smiled at him, placing the book on top of her robe as she accepted a glass of the wine. After a moment, she decided to be bold and leaned against her companion. He certainly had no complaints about it if the way his arm wrapped around her and started stroking her hair was any indication.

They sat in silence for awhile, simply enjoying each other’s company. Eventually, Oberyn voiced an observation he had evidently made. “You’re good with them.”

Ellaria shrugged as much as she was able. “I like kids. My mother was a merchant and took me with her on her journeys, and some of the other people on her ships had children too, younger than I was. I begged her for a sibling many times, and was disappointed that when she took me to my father when she didn’t have long left in this world and found I had none from him, nor even any cousins. I’ll admit that I spent much of my first days with the servant’s children, and even after getting used to life in the Hellholt still made time for them. My father has even joked about it several times, wondering why he hasn’t gotten any grandchildren from me yet.”

He surprisingly snorted at that. “I doubt they’ve ever been much like mine.”

“No, but that doesn’t mean much. Your daughters may be interesting, but that doesn’t mean they’re unlikable at all. They’re actually very sweet once you interact with them… if a little bit too knowledgeable about sharp objects at their ages that I cannot in any way condone.”

That got a laugh out of him that she very willingly joined in with. They both knew that she was an Uller and really couldn’t say anything on the subject, even if she freely admitted that she wasn’t in any way a martial person even though she knew how to defend herself well.

After they finished laughing, Oberyn said with no small amount of wonder in his voice, “They _like_ you.”

Ellaria rose an eyebrow, not understanding why he sounded so surprised at that fact. “I am glad for it, for as I said, they are good kids. A little much at times, but that doesn’t take away from their likability.”

She also didn’t understand the look he gave her after that declaration, though she was admittedly distracted by some _very pleasurable activities_ soon after and gave no thought on it for quite awhile, no matter how often she saw the sand snakes and their father. Not even when Nym crept into the room one night she spent with him asking for cuddles and was more than happy to snuggle up with her as she was her father. Not even when Obara slowly lost her suspicion towards her the more time they spent around each other, even allowing her to help her with her lessons. And especially not when she and Oberyn had spent three weeks in each other’s company and neither one of them showed any wish to leave.

No, the thing that made her start to suspect what that look had meant was when Elia (she had also told her to drop her title shortly after they had meant) invited her to go to the Water Gardens with her family… and finding that she was the only one in the group that was not related to the Martells or planned to be part of Elia’s retinue when she married and went to Great Moraq.

She tried not to think to hard of what she wanted it mean because she doubted it would work out. She couldn’t be a paramour, not anymore, not with having been legitimized and the Hellholt going to her line, and she doubted that Princess Loreza would allow them to marry for the same reasons.

No, she would just enjoy the time she had with them for now, for if nothing else it would give her fond memories to look back on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Ellaria. You forget the fact that this is Oberyn freaking Martell you're referring to. No one but the Ullers would be crazy enough to want him as a goodson/brother/whatever. Dorne likes him just fine, but actually being related to him is another story. Plus he's not an heir or really in danger of inheriting, which is the biggest criteria for you and your kids.
> 
> Uller succession: Harmen - Ulwyck - Ellaria or one of her kids. As Ellaria said, she was about ten when she came to the Hellholt. Ulwyck was eighteen at the time, and as Harmen had been married for several years but never had any kids (for whatever reason, he thought himself to blame for that even after Ellaria showed up and no one wants to figure out why), Ulwyck had been raised as the heir, and assumed to be the heir as Ellaria was a bastard. The thing is that Ulwyck will cheerfully proclaim that he's asexual and does not want to have any kids now that there's no need to, so even if they have him be the next Lord Uller as Ellaria spent most of her formulative years away from the Hellholt, the lordship will go to one of her kids regardless. Which is why they got her legitimized so her kids would definitely be able to be legitimate Ullers without any real fuss.
> 
> If you're wondering why Ellaria didn't put together who Tyene is but immediately recognized Obara and Nym: Tyene is one. If she showed up for a feast, it would be for like two minutes. Obara and Nym are old enough that they would be running around for a little while, enough time for Ellaria to recognize them.
> 
> Ellaria, seeing Oberyn from a distance: Huh, he really is attractive.  
> Ellaria, seeing him with his kids: OH NO HE'S HOT
> 
> I have no idea what they ended up doing to the rest of Meraxes' bones, but let's face it, sticking them in front of the Hellholt and defacing them makes perfect sense for House Uller. It's probably the only spat they really have with House Martell, but they usually get by by letting any Martell kids also throw paint at them.
> 
> You know, when Mellario said that Oby would find a wife when the little Sand Snakes found someone they liked and latched onto her, I doubt she meant it literally. But Nym has carefully trained Tyene to want cuddles since birth, so they should have expected it.
> 
> Next chapter: We finally get a glimpse at our favorite Moraqi characters... like ten chapters later. (I really didn't expect it to take this long...)


	13. A Sultan's Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mehmed tries and fails to wrap his mind around how stupid this entire situation is.

**The Summer Isles**

Mehmed would fully admit he did not had the highest opinion of Westeros to begin with, even before he had met anyone from there. As he had grown, all of his news of that continent came from the rest of Essos, none of whom were very impressed by it. And later his news had come from Oberyn Martell, who was also not very impressed by any Westerosi above the Red Mountains of Dorne, a view he had found was shared by many of the other Dornishmen he had spoken to.

There was a difference between not having a high opinion on a place and starting to fully believe that the entire population of Westeros north of Dorne was full of imbeciles, however.

Finding out that Dorne had declared themselves independent came as no surprise. The more he had learned of Dorne, both from Oberyn and his own people that investigated that nation for his family, the more he wondered why they had ever joined the so-called Seven Kingdoms of Westeros to begin with. (There were not even seven kingdoms on that continent. There were nine of them. Though he had learned that no one liked the Iron Islands for completely understandable reasons and could somewhat understand not counting them, that still left eight of them. Why a group of men that believed themselves to be above all else ignored that fact was beyond him.) The Dornish were fiercely independent, as was to be expected from a nation helped shaped by a people that had chosen to leave their homelands rather than be sold into slavery.

There was also the fact that when his mother had spoken to him after he had finally claimed the throne and put those who had wished to use him and his own sister for so long to the sword, suggesting that he marry the Princess Elia Martell, she had also told him of what their astrologers had foretold, that Dorne would be fully independent once more before either of them set foot in that nation. He had confirmed that to be the truth when he got the chance.

Even if he ignored all that he had been told and what the astrologers had foretold, there was also the fact that before they had left Moraq to sail to Dorne, for that was where the Princess Loreza had negotiated for their wedding to take place, they had received an ominous letter from said ruling Princess. She had spoken of the fact that Dorne had received a very insulting list of demands from the Targaryen king that would soon change everything, and while she did not give many details as she needed to confer with her bannermen first, she wrote that she and her people would understand if they wished to push back their arrival until after things had calmed down.

Mehmed had spoken to all of his advisors, consulted the astrologers, and carefully examined the messages he had received from the people he had that sent to Dorne to take the measure of Princess Elia and her family. In the end, they had chosen to go ahead and sail to Dorne as planned.

When they had reached the Summer Isles, where they would spend time resting before continuing onto Dorne, they had found a letter waiting for them that not only held Dorne’s declaration of their independence, but also explained the situation far more than the original letter had.

The situation that had been brought about by pure and utter idiocy on the part of the so-called dragon on that throne.

Mehmed’s reaction at this news was to stare at the letter, read it again, go splash some water on his face to make certain he was awake, and read it yet again before requesting that one of his guards bring his mother here because he was having a very difficult time believing that this so-called dragon king was truly that stupid.

Aerys, the man that called himself the second of his name to rule on that Iron Throne, had lost any shred of diplomacy he may have had once. He ordered his soon to be goodmother to give up not only her only daughter, but to also cease any trade that they had with the cities and countries away from the rest of Westeros and to annul her oldest son’s marriage, sending the future princess consort and her daughter into exile for committing the “crime” of bearing foreign blood. Even though he knew for a fact that the Targaryens had married Essosi before. And the fact that they weren’t even Westerosi to begin with, having hailed from Valyria before the Doom.

To say he was dumbfounded by the news would be an understatement. Though by the time his mother arrived, he had at least progressed from wondering how someone could be that stupid, and instead began to wonder how anyone could be that stupid and _not one single person_ had tried to off him yet.

Upon entering the room, Lady Mara took one look at him before demanding the letter to read herself. Judging by the dumbfounded look that crossed her face, she had no idea how things had progressed this far either.

After having read it several times, the sultana finally sighed and placed the letter back on the table. “Well, no one with even the slightest amount of brain left will see this as anything but justified.”

He got the distinct impression that she did not consider any Westerosi to be one of those people. He could not blame her as he felt the exact same way.

Mehmed sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Justified? If they had chosen any differently with such an insult, I would wonder at how every single thing we have learned about Dorne was a lie.”

No, what he had learned of Dorne was not a lie- but neither was what he had learned of the rest of the continent if this was any indication.

He knew that Oberyn was not an unbiased source of news. The man himself had even admitted that fact once in a very roundabout way. But the youngest prince of Dorne had told him of a Game of Thrones played by the midlands of Westeros with no small amount of disgust, for as far as he was concerned that Iron Throne had been cursed from the start and could not understand why anyone would ever want to sit upon it. Dorne played it, yes, but only to the extent of keeping their freedoms intact, for the only throne they cared to truly acknowledge was the Sunchair.

From what Mehmed had gathered, that Game was a cutthroat one, where you either won or died. If that was the case, why did no one find a way to off Aerys before he did this? Regardless of what the other countries thought of Dorne, they would no doubt worry that this would not be the last time he gave such demands.

His spies had learned of how Aerys had become more and more unstable since having been held captive by the brainless idiots that used to live in Duskendale. All of Essos had in fact, as most of the elite families of the Free Cities had carefully made it seem like there were no brides with Valyrian blood available for him to marry to his heir when Lord Baratheon had sought one at his behest. Perhaps they would feel differently had this Prince Rhaegar made any move to show he wished to depose his father, but he had thus far given no indication of that, despite the fact that he was a man grown by Westerosi standards and had been so for a few years.

That was another thing that Mehmed could not understand. If his own father had shown the same signs of madness, he would not have hesitated to force him off the throne before he could ruin their empire. He had learned little of this Rhaegar- Oberyn had met him briefly once and had not been impressed, but had not interacted with him much at all despite their similar ages and positions, which in itself spoke volumes on many subjects- but even these simple actions did not paint him in a good light.

Lady Mara nodded at his words, saying, “Having irrefutable proof is always ideal. Now, we must wait and see whether our astrologers interpreted the stars correctly.”

That was always in question.

He believed that the gods had written their words in the stars before they had exiled themselves from the world. But while interpreting their words wrong carried grave consequences, men were men and it was sometimes inevitable. And even if they interpreted them correctly, one could miss some greater meaning.

The astrologers had seen no sign of Dorne being engulfed in war. (And if he were in charge, he would not be enthused at the idea of invading, not after reading of how wars in that country were fought.) But that did not mean there was no possibility of danger, something that his advisors had cautioned when they had spoken of whether to delay the visit or not.

His mother proved to be the most valuable advisor any could have once more, for they discussed the possible ramifications of this declaration- or rather, the few that had only now come to light. As they talked, they found that this truly did not change as much, and even helped in some areas. They would not be forced to have any interaction with the north of Westeros in any capacity now, after all.

Once Lady Mara had left, claiming that she wished to rest before they dined with the local princess of this particular region, Mehmed finally picked up a second letter that had arrived, this one from the only daughter of the Martell family.

Perhaps his mother- and sister if she were here- would have teased him and said he should have read his intended’s words first, but from what he had learned of Princess Elia, she would no doubt understand in this case.

Despite- or rather, _because_ of- all the stories he had heard from Oberyn of their childhood, Mehmed had chosen to set up his own correspondence with Princess Elia. He had wished to make his own opinion of her before they had met, and while letters were not as effective as seeing them in person, they were still very informative.

Thus far, he had learned that Elia was in fact the person Oberyn had made her out to be. A woman who was intelligent and mindful of her duty, but who also had a sweet wit he very much appreciated, for he did not wish to be married to a woman that would bore him to tears. He wished for someone he could laugh with at the day’s end, just as his own parents did.

It was not just the letters that gave him this impression either. Once their betrothal had been arranged and they were simply negotiating the details, he had asked one of his cousins to go to Dorne to teach the princess of life in Moraq and to take her measure in person. Yaren had reported back that she was indeed what he had gathered from their correspondence, and was genuinely interested in their country, and not simply because she felt a sense of duty to know as much as she could before they arrived. Unsurprising as she was Oberyn’s closest sibling and had to share some of the same opinions, but welcome news regardless.

Mehmed had never had much urge to marry. He would fully admit that his mother may have been right to suggest that he take their astrologer’s words to heart and look to Dorne, however, and very much looked forward to seeing what he would find in Dorne.

Not in the least because the Ruling Family of Dorne seemed to actually be mostly sane. Perhaps that was more evidence to the fact that marrying anyone closely related to you was a terrible idea. Though that should have been evident before… Seriously, did no one there think?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was pretty cathartic because Mehmed is divorced enough from the situation to realize just how stupid Aerys and everyone else is :D
> 
> Because seriously, why did no one off him or set him aside after Duskendale? Tywin definitely had the motive, and Pycelle was in his pockets, and Varys only showed up after the Baratheons died. Seriously, why did no one?
> 
> Why are they at the Summer Islands? I looked at the map and it looked like a decent place for them to make a stop on the way to Dorne if they wanted to avoid Valyria. Which I fell like they do. They might even know more than Westeros does about what hides there, and if just seeing what happened to Aerea Targaryen was enough for them to ban anyone who had been to Valyria, I doubt more knowledge would change that.
> 
> Also, on the mentions of the local princess they're dining with: the various islands and cities of the Summer Isles are apparently ruled by local princes or princesses.
> 
> I also figured that now that they've had trade with Dorne for awhile, Mehmed would wish to send someone he trusts to meet Elia because as he pointed out, Oberyn is her younger brother. He'd rather be certain that what he's told about her isn't just him talking with rose colored glasses. We'll see some more of Yaren next chapter.
> 
> Not really related to the chapter, but would Dorne technically be a Principality considering they're explicilty ruled by a Prince/ss and not a king? Would they even use that here?
> 
> Next chapter: Elia and the Water Gardens


	14. Pleasant Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elia and friends go to the Water Gardens, she gets some things confirmed and a nice afternoon is had.

**The Water Gardens**

Elia would miss all of Dorne once she married and started her life in Great Moraq. That was something she had accepted as fact already, and part of her grieved the fact that she did not have the time to travel throughout their nation one last time, no matter how bittersweet it would have been as the last time she had, it had been with her father, for she had stayed in Sunspear last year when Doran and Mellario had gone on a progress.

There was one place she could easily visit however, and so she, her younger brother, her goodsister, her nieces, her soon to be ladies, and a recently legitimized daughter of House Uller traveled to the Water Gardens with a fairly large contingent of guards.

The last member of their party had been a surprise. Elia had known that their mother had legitimized more than just three of her nieces and her nephew/cousin, but she hadn’t expected Mellario’s words about her nieces meeting someone they liked and immediately deciding to latch onto them and their father following to be quite so literal.

She didn’t mind though. She quite liked Ellaria, and could understand why Oberyn seemed to be half in love with her already considering how he looked at her the exact same way she remembered their father looking at their mother, even though they had only known each other for slightly less than a moon. Which granted, was quite a bit of time for her baby brother to stay with a single person. It was also not out of character for the men of her family. Doran could not have been in Norvos for much more than a moon before writing about how much he loved Mellario and wanted to marry her, and Lewyn had just shown up with Sylvia as his paramour after a trip to take care of an issue for their mother that had only lasted a couple of moons. She still remembered her father laughing and her mother slamming her head against the desk and visibly giving up when that had happened.

About the only thing she didn’t like about Ellaria was how she obviously enjoyed giving out just as much innuendos as her brother, but at the very least she personally wouldn’t have to deal with that soon enough. Doran, on the other hand… she would keep her older brother in her prayers.

Both Oberyn and Ellaria were at the front of the party, talking and laughing about who knows what. Elia was a little surprised that Obara and Nym weren’t with them and had chosen to ride in the litter with Mellario, Arianne, and Tyene, but as she had a sneaking suspicion the little Sand Snakes (who were technically not sand snakes anymore but the name was too adorable to drop) were doing their best to set their father up with Ellaria, maybe it wasn’t so surprising.

Elia herself had chosen to ride at a more sedate pace because she did not wish to get between them and deal with all of those innuendos. No, she stayed back with the others, freely conversing with the other ladies of their party. Mostly Myria and Ashara, but also some with Yaren Han.

Yaren’s arrival had made her nervous, she would not lie. She was one of the many Han cousins running around Great Moraq, and Elia knew that while she was indeed here to teach her more about Moraq from someone who actually lived there, she was also meant to take her measure. The betrothal had been all but finalized by the time she had arrived only a few moons ago, with only minor details such as the wedding date to be taken care of, but if at any point Yaren (or any of the others that had arrived with her party, but especially her) decided that Elia was not suitable to be their Sultana, they would break it without much hesitation.

Thankfully, while she did not know the full opinion they had of her, it could not be too negative as that fear had not come to pass. After a little while, she had even been able to relax around Yaren and now considered her a friend, possibly helped by how different she was from many of the other people she dealt with.

While many of the others she dealt with on a regular basis were strong-willed, Yaren was not to the same extent. Oh, she was not a pushover in any sense, but she was much softer, and far less interested in politics. She freely admitted that she wished to be a healer, and had volunteered to come to Dorne partially to learn some of their methods for she was of the opinion that if something helped a person it was a healer’s duty to learn it, something that had endeared her to the healers that took her under their wings.

That was not to say that Yaren was unaware at all of the politics that went on in their empire even if she preferred to stay out of the bulk of it. Many of their conversations, both with only the two of them and with the ladies that would be accompanying her, were on this subject, for none of them wished to go there without their eyes open.

(Unlike what foolish men believed women talked about amongst themselves, they left gossiping about the attractive members of the Moraqi court for when Oberyn showed up for whatever dumb reason he felt like giving at the moment and wouldn’t leave. He was more than happy to give them his personal opinions on all the men and women he had met, and why should they deprive them of that chance? Elia trusted his opinions, and thus knew that she would not at all be disappointed by her husband’s looks, though she was also very thankful that he hadn’t succeeded in going to bed with him. She had no wish to deal with that particular brand of awkwardness.)

The trip to the Water Gardens was a pleasant one. As autumn was coming to a close and winter would soon come to the world, it was much cooler. Still more than likely too hot for any above the Red Mountains, but it was a wonderful balm for her fellow Dornishmen. While they took far more guards than their usual as everyone flat out refused to take any chances despite the fact that it had not even been a moon since their Princess sent word to the rest of Westeros that there was only Six Kingdoms for the Targaryens to rule and they could not have moved so quickly, none of them interfered with their talk.

Or prevented Nym, Tyene, and Arianne from all claiming Obara as a pillow when they decided to take a nap halfway through the trip, much to everyone’s general amusement when they arrived at the most famous location in all of Dorne and saw the eldest Martell of that generation dash out of the litter and hide behind her father to get away from the other girls.

Their party split off after that. Oberyn left his daughters to all but drag Ellaria to their quarters while he went to talk to the guard captains of the Water Gardens, a large part of the reason why he had come with them. (Contrary to what some assumed, the Water Gardens were quite possibly the most well defended place in Dorne. They had been built for Daenerys Martell, the woman who’s marriage to Prince Maron brought Dorne into the Seven Kingdoms while Daeron the Damned’s campaign was in living memory. Even apart from that fact, they also housed a large number of Dorne’s children at any given time. No one wished for anything to happen to them, resulting in what some would almost consider to be paranoid measures.)

Elia herself made certain her ladies were all settled into their rooms before retiring to her own, changing out of her riding clothes and taking advantage of the private pools in the Martells’ apartments. Once that was done, she looked longingly in the direction of the main pools, but bit her lip and forced herself to go in the other direction, towards the midwives’ chambers. They had checked a few years before to a favorable diagnosis, but with her wedding only moons away she needed to make certain for her own peace of mind.

Once there, instead of finding only Usha, the Orphan woman who had become the head midwife years before and one of the woman her mother credited with having saved Elia herself after her too early birth, or even just Usha and one of her assistants, she found Yaren animatedly talking to the woman.

When they noticed her standing surprised in the doorway, they both immediately stood up and curtseyed. “My Princess,” Yaren greeted, “I was simply discussing some of the techniques used in Dorne with Lady Usha. If you wish to be alone, I can come back later.

Elia looked at her, doing her best to keep her apprehension off of her face. While it was true that she should know what this conversation would reveal, she still feared something would have changed. But… Yaren was not a fool. She had proved that already. She may have already guessed what she was there for, and she would not deny that it would be for the best if someone from Moraq was there.

With that in mind, Elia waved a hand. “No. It should not take long.”

Usha herself gazed at her with a gentle look. “You wish to be certain you can bear children, Princess.”

It wasn’t a question, but she nodded anyway. “I know you checked yourself but a few years ago, but I would prefer to know for sure that the answer is the same.” She knew that bearing an heir was not expected of her in Moraq like it would be above the Red Mountains or even some places in Dorne, something that had relieved her since they had first started negotiating her marriage, but her brothers having children of their own made her long for her own, and she knew in her heart that she could never make the same agreement that Lady Mara had with her husband.

Thankfully, Yaren showed no reaction besides asking if they minded her observing, as while she planned to specialize in other forms of healing knowing how pregnancy worked was never a bad idea. Elia agreed, and Usha led her to the bed in the room and began her examination, asking questions of her and explaining things as she went.

It did not take long, and at the end she was relieved that the diagnosis was no different than what it had been before.

Usha smiled at her and said, “Princess, my findings are no different than they were before. Your body is able to handle the birth of children. I would suggest you wait to carry one until you have settled in Great Moraq, and to make certain your body has recovered before you have another, giving your children at least a year between them, but you no doubt will have them.”

Elia rose, smiling at the midwife, taking her hands and kissing them. “Thank you, Usha. I almost wish that you were coming with me, but no doubt my goodsister would protest me stealing your services.”

Usha laughed. “Do not worry princess, for I have no doubt that as the Sultana you shall have access to the best midwives available in Great Moraq. Nor do I doubt that your mother will travel to your side as soon as she hears you are with child, and she may bring some of her own unless specifically told not to.”

It was then that Yaren spoke for the first time since they had began. “Princess Elia, you know that you will not be under pressure to bear an heir. Not the same way it is here.”

“I know,” Elia said softly, looking at the Moraqi woman. “I am asking for myself, for I wish for children of my own one day, no matter if I only bear daughters that cannot take the throne or a single son that wishes for nothing else but to travel the world and learn what he can instead of attempting to succeed his father.”

She wasn’t entirely sure what Yaren’s gaze meant, but the gentle smile she gave her could not mean it was too bad.

Elia left the two of them after thanking Usha again, choosing to go to the pools now that her fears were relieved. No doubt Arianne would have demanded to play in the pools, with Tyene at the very least echoing her. Ashara’s younger sister, Allyria, who was actually only the same age as Nym, having been a welcome surprise to her family, had also been sent to the Water Gardens by Lady Dynora after the declaration, and she definitely would not mind seeing her again.

As she expected, her family and friends were all at one of the pools. Oberyn was laid out under a tree, obviously napping with Nym curled up on his chest, while Tyene was happily splashing in the shallowest part of the pool with an amused Ellaria minding her. Arianne meanwhile was sharing a blood orange with Allyria, Ashara telling them a story while Mellario looked on. Obara was nowhere to be seen, most likely hiding in her room away from her younger sisters and cousins.

Deciding to be nice to her second niece and let her nap, Elia went over to her friend and goodsister, tucking in her skirts and sitting next to Ashara. “What tales are you telling them?”

Arianne beamed at her and replied, “First Sword of the Morning!”

“They wished to hear tales of Davos Dayne,” Ashara translated with a smile that did nothing to hide the strain around her eyes at the title.

No doubt the title made her think of another man with the title, one that they had heard nothing of since before that Targaryen king proved his insanity.

Quickly changing the subject for she had just as much wish to dwell on the subject as Ashara herself did, Elia asked, “Ser Davos Dayne, the final husband of Princess Nymeria? And you did not wake our own Nymeria for those stories?”

As one might have expected, Nym had quickly latched onto stories of her famous ancestor and namesake. Or at least, she had once her confusion at why they were talking about her name in regards to things that she had never done had been cleared up. That had been an adorable incident.

Mellario simply shrugged, offering no explanation. Oh well, Elia could say that she had arrived after they started talking and had assumed she had stated that she would rather nap if she got upset. The other two women next to her could deal with any pouting.

Thankfully for all of them, after a little while Arianne got bored with storytime and went to go bug her uncle and cousin, waking them up and ending up with a cranky Nym chasing her around while Oberyn and everyone else just laughed at the scene. Soon, both Tyene and Allyria joined in the chase and an impromptu game of tag started, drawing in other children the longer it went on. It only ended when someone managed to get an eel and put it in the pools for a poor, unsuspecting child to find. There were many suspects as to who did that, but Elia would personally believe one of the culprits to be Tyene. Her face was far too innocent for her to have had nothing to do with the prank.

Once the eel had been taken care of by a bored Obara that had finally wandered down to the pools and immediately been swarmed by several of the kids that had spent time with her, Elia was relaxing under the shade of one of the trees and simply watching the children play when Ellaria sat down next to her, pulling her mostly dry hair from her braid and combing through it with her hands, saying in a wistful tone, “I’m glad that they get what I did not, can play in these pools with other children.”

Elia blinked, looking over at her. “You never got to play in the Water Gardens?”

Ellaria shook her head. “No. My birth came a couple of moons after my father had married, and my mother thought it best not to inform him for fear it would cause strife in the marriage. Most of my childhood was spent traveling with her, and we mostly visited Planky Town when we were here. And when she finally took me to my father, I was ten and older than most of the children here tend to be.”

“And she didn’t send you here at all?” Usually merchants were more than happy to send their children to the Water Gardens while they did business in Sunspear or Planky Town, let them spend time with more children their age. Ships tended to be lonely places for children, after all. Many merchant women who had children with men in Dorne left their children with their fathers if it was possible, albeit after making sure they could visit their offspring.

Her companion simply shrugged, tossing her hair back over her shoulder and beginning to braid it back with practiced movements. Realizing that she would not be able to get anything else out of her, Elia instead studied the woman next to her.

Ellaria was not what one would consider to be a classical beauty, not like they called Ashara or, for whatever dumb reason they came up with, Elia herself. But that did not matter at all, for she was still beautiful regardless, especially with the assured way she carried herself, like she knew who she was and refused to cow to anyone. She did it so effortlessly that Elia was actually jealous. It was like she knew who she was and refused to let herself be ashamed of it. Thanks to this, in her eyes it was clear just why her brother and nieces were so attached to her already.

Even Obara, her eldest niece, the prickliest and most wary of anyone who she even suspected of wanting to join their family, liked her, as proven by how she ran over and tried to hide behind Ellaria when Allyria decided that her and the other Martell children should try to gang up on her and win an impromptu sparring match against her through the strength of numbers.

As Elia laughed at the latest shenanigans from the children, her mind turned towards Great Moraq. She knew that they had no equivalent to these gardens, which was a shame in her eyes. Perhaps she could build a version for the people that would soon be hers? She knew that at least part of the reason why their people approved of them so much was because it was hard to feel like their royalty and nobility were so distant when they had all played together in these pools, uncaring of status.

Perhaps that could be part of her legacy as Sultana. She would have to ask and see when her betrothed's party arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Martell men just latching on to people they like soon after meeting them came as an accident. I mean, Oberyn is obvious, but I completely by accident gave Doran the same quirk in this by not realizing just how long he would have had to be in Norvos before marrying Mellario. I decided to just roll with it because it amuses me.
> 
> I also find the idea that Elia and her ladies are just this terrifying group of women that are extremely political and plan how to do things amusing. And then Oberyn comes in and ruins it because that's what he does.
> 
> I don't see how the Water Gardens wouldn't be heavily guarded. I mean, yeah by the time we see them in canon, Doran is living there and of course it would be, but think of all the kids that play there. No one wants anything to happen to them.
> 
> I also personally don't see Elia ever being okay with her husband fathering other children on someone else unless there is no other option. Would she be okay with adopting? Yes. Would she be okay with a kid threatening her own children's positions? Absolutely not. And that's not even getting into the emotional toll it would take on her. Seriously, if she runs into grief trying to bear children in this, she would really just go visit Dorne and convince Oberyn's kids that they want to live with her.
> 
> Also upon writing this, I am now sad that we don't know if Elia and Ellaria ever got to interact with each other at any point in canon.
> 
> Next chapter: Queen Rhaella gets called to the throne room.


	15. A Dragon Wakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People forgot that Rhaella was just as much a dragon as the rest of her family, if not even more of one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aerys. This chapter involves Aerys. You have been warned.

**King’s Landing**

The only thing that surprised Rhaella about the summons to the throne room she received was the fact that it had happened near two moons after Aerys’ insanity reached a new level. Then again, Lord Tywin had been delayed long enough by solving some disagreement in the Westerlands and then by storms on his way back to the capital that he had only arrived the day before, and her eldest son had given no indication that he would leave Dragonstone in the near future.

(Rhaella loved her eldest son with all of her heart. That did not in any way stop the disappointment she felt towards him at times like these. If he were here, more than a few people would fully support him putting aside the current king and even thank him for it. But he was not, and why would they take the chance of being punished for doing what was right?)

The entirety of the Red Keep and even King’s Landing itself had been on edge for every second of these past moons. If they'd held any hope the man who called himself a king would find some shred of reason, it had evaporated upon the arrival of Princess Loreza’s response to his insane demands slightly more than a sennight ago. Rhaella would not be surprised if those living in the farthest reaches of the Crownlands had been able to hear his temper exploding, for she certainly had felt like she would go deaf and he had been on the opposite side of the castle at the time.

She had not seen the letter, but she had no need to. That man’s anger told her everything she needed to know. The words he used to describe Loree and her daughter, what he would do to them and their family and all of their bannermen for this “treason” they had performed against him- not the realm, not against the Iron Throne, not even against their own House, but against _Aerys himself_ \- those words, if ever carried out, promised deeds no doubt the Stranger himself would be disgusted by.

Princess Loreza Nymeros Martell had sent a simple reply to King’s Landing. Addressing Aerys as King of only the Andals and the First Men and as the Lord of the _Six_ Kingdoms, she had informed him that due to his actions, the treaties that King Daeron the Good and Prince Maron Nymeros Martell had signed were no more than ash in the wind. Dorne was once more an independent realm, and their Ruling Princess had informed them that until he recanted his words about her people, there would be no hope of negotiations between them, and any attempt to force Dorne to bend once again would be rebuffed.

The court had been stunned at that announcement. While they had speculated of what Dorne would do and some had even wished them gone, none had actually expected them to declare themselves independent.

That shock, however, was nothing compared to the fear lingering in the air of what that king would do next.

His insanity had increased to even more concerning levels. He had not limited himself to simple words of hate towards the Dornish, oh no. He had ordered the Goldcloaks to detain every single Dornishman in the city and throw them into the Black Cells as punishment for the treason they obviously had a hand in.

Thankfully, there were few Dornish left in the city. Not only had trade with Dorne been waning the past couple of years with them not importing anywhere near as much from north of their mountains as they used to, the few Dornishmen that had been in the city had seen the writing on the wall and left with all haste in the night when news of the king’s anger had first reached the city.

Aerys had made his displeasure of that fact known, for how dare they not wish to leave their fates up to a madman? No, he had gathered up the few of Dornish blood that remained in the city and turned them over to the prison keepers in the Black Cells, reportedly allowing him to do to them what they wished.

That included Arthur Dayne, one of the Kingsguard sworn to protect and follow Aerys above all else.

Rhaella had thought that it was some sort of sick joke when she had received that piece of information, but no, it had not been. That man had truly chosen to show how insane he had become with that simple action, proving that he cared not for any oaths made.

(A dark part of her that she tried not to acknowledge wondered if him harming one of their own would finally make the Kingsguard stop defending him. Standing by and letting him rape and brutalize their own Queen and lock her up as if she was nothing but a criminal had not however, even though the Queen Visenya herself had been the one to create their order, so why would this change anything?)

There was one single bright spot in all of this for Rhaella, and it was the fact that in these past two moons the man she was chained to had not once forced himself into her bed. She had no idea why for anger had never stopped him before, but the tiny part that remained of that once pious girl that had been destroyed when she realized that none of her prayers would ever be answered thanked the Mother for giving her this this reprieve, especially when her courses came as they should.

Of course, the reprieve could not last. And as Lord Tywin had finally arrived in the capital, she knew before the so-called "Lord" Commander of the Kingsguard came to her door that today would be the day of reckoning. As such, she had prepared carefully.

She wore no crown nor jewelry, but had dressed in a beautiful black silk gown with red dragons embroidered on it. She had planned to save it for when her son married, but it was the finest dress she owned and she knew that she would need to show who she was. Her hair was mostly pulled up into a crown braid, with some parts at the front framing her face.

When Gerold Hightower came to her door, informing her that her presence was required in the throne room with a visibly exhausted expression, Rhaella locked eyes with both Amista and Septa Rosalind, both of whom bowed their heads slightly to her, making her relax as much as she could allow herself. Without any words exchanged between, she knew that they would do their best to carry out their plan to get Viserys out should something happen to her, for she refused to allow her youngest son to be ruined by his sire. She would be like Rhaena Targaryen, only she refused to allow this particular Master of Whispers find her son and use him against her. No, they would flee with Viserys and bring him to a House that would protect him, perhaps the Baratheons as they held no love for Aerys. As Rhaegar was still on Dragonstone, her sons would be safe from the man on the throne.

If the tension in her own rooms was bad, it was far worse on their journey to the throne room. The few servants they saw bowed deeply to her before scurrying away as fast as they could.

And that was to say nothing of the tension present in the throne room itself.

Even if their relationship had already soured by that point, at the start of his rule Rhaella would admit that Aerys had looked like a king should when sitting on that Iron Throne. He had been handsome, once upon a time, and physically had worn the crown of a king well- though more men should have paid closer attention to whose crown he had chosen.

That kingly boy was no more. Aerys had always been paranoid, but Duskendale had made everything worse. Now he refused to let anyone near him with anything remotely sharp, letting his nails grow to disgusting lengths and his hair and beard grow long and matted. He feared poison so much that he refused to eat much, and had grown so gaunt that he almost looked like a corpse. He was only five and thirty, but looked decades older.

Even worse than all of that was the smell. His insanity had increased to the point where he refused to wash himself. How some disease had not managed to cling to him through the grime and spare the world of his presence yet, she would never understand.

The entire court was assembled, but while before many courtiers would talk amongst themselves, today it was as silent as a grave.

Until Aerys sneered and began his list of insults.

“That Dornish whore who calls herself a princess has shown her true colors.”

 _‘Dornish whore?’_ Rhaella scoffed to herself. _Loreza never once showed interest in a man not her husband. Unlike you, who once paraded your mistresses around and leered and worse at Joanna, the wife of the man supposedly that had supposedly been your best friend at the time. And the Martells have been the rulers of Dorne for a thousand years. The Targaryens have been kings for not even three hundred._

“She denies the honor of marrying her whore of a daughter to my esteemed son, of pure Valyrian blood and insulting House Targaryen with that action.”

_Again with calling them whores. I doubt Princess Elia is that kind of woman. And the honor of marrying into House Targaryen? What honor? There has been none since our foolish grandfather and uncles broke all promises of betrothals. Neither our sire nor you yourself have ever done anything to change that._

“She plots with foreigners to usurp me.”

_Dear Warrior, you are a fool. If nothing else, these actions prove they don’t give a damn about your precious Iron Throne, or any throne that isn’t the Sunchair._

“And she dares to spit on my generous terms and deny the opportunity to atone for her actions and allow her fellow whore to take her rightful place!”

_Generous terms? You mean demanding Princess Elia be your slave so Rhaegar can use her as nothing more than a vessel to carry children, whether she wishes to or not? You mean your demands for them to bastardize Prince Doran’s own heir and force her and her mother into exile in Essos even though they have committed no crimes?_

“I will not stand for these insults to my person!”

_Not insults to our House or even that damned throne. Insults to you personally._

“Dorne will soon pay for their crimes in blood, for their deserts shall run red with the blood of their people.”

“It will not be Dornish blood that stains their sands.”

It was only when a hush fell over the court and that man on the throne turned his burning eyes to her that she realized she had spoken out loud.

For a brief moment, Rhaella wanted to flinch, to hide away in hopes that his wrath would not be too harsh, that he would forget she had said a single word and thought to be anything more than a piece of furniture to be seen on occasion but never actually thought of, as she had been on the rare occasions that he had deigned to allow her to be seen by the court.

But no. She was tired. Tired of flinching away, of waiting for the next blow he forced upon her. Tired of biting her tongue and bleeding more from that repeated action than all of his visits to her rooms combined. Tired of being nothing in the eyes of the people who held power.

Years later, historians would claim Rhaella had been following in the footsteps of Queen Rhaenyra, of Daena the Defiant. They would claim that she had similar motives as those two women, albeit ones that were unquestionably benign.

She did not. Rhaenyra had wanted her birthright that had been stolen from her by her goodmother and half-brother. Aerys was unfortunately the eldest, and the men in charge after the Dance of Dragons had thought that Rhaenyra’s gender was the perfect opportunity to say that no woman could ever sit on that ridiculous throne.

Daena’s story was closer to hers, that was true. King Baelor, the man they called the Blessed, had locked the woman meant to be his Queen and her sisters up in the Maidenvault for years, just as Rhaella herself had been locked in Maegor’s Holdfast. But Daena had shown her displeasure and spite at her brother for forcing her to live that kind of life even before bearing a bastard who’s line would bring grief to Westeros for generations, something Rhaella refused to so much as entertain doing. She, unlike others, knew what duty was, little as she liked it.

No, Rhaella did not do this out of spite or to claim her stolen birthright. She did it because she was exhausted and wished for all of this pain end. All of the pain heaped upon her over the years, and all of the pain brought to Westeros itself.

With this in mind, the Queen met the man claiming to be a king’s eyes and walked forward until she was standing in front of the steps to the Iron Throne, shoulders straight and head held high, refusing to cow under his hateful gaze any longer.

“You have forgotten our history,” Rhaella chided him. “When has fighting against Dorne given us anything but the spilled blood of our people? Not even Aegon the Conqueror and Queens Visenya and Rhaenys themselves could force them to bend the knee to them, not even when the two remaining siblings showed them their wrath when Queen Rhaenys died. Even King Daeron the First died in their deserts, and he was fighting against a Dorne with no other allies.”

In all of her years, she had never seen Aerys as angry as he was now. Oddly enough, the redness of his face almost made him look less like a corpse.

“How do we know that Princess Elia isn’t already on a ship to Great Moraq to marry their Sultan and complete their alliance? We know nothing of that country’s military strength, only that they have promised ships to defend Dorne’s borders for the Dornish custom of bride price. Do you truly believe that the Great Houses will be happy sending their sons to die facing the unknown in Dorne?”

“Are you defending those traitors to my rule?”

If Rhaella had not already decided she did not care about any further consequences, the anger in Aerys’ face would have made her flinch away and beg for forgiveness.

Now, however, she simply stood even straighter if possible and reminded Aerys that she was a dragon as well, even if she had been slumbering for years and only now awoken.

“I am defending the innocent lives that would be lost if you continue with your foolishness. Lives that a King should think of before taking a single action.”

“I am King! Their lives are mine to do with as I please! If I wish for them to kill themselves in the deserts, then they should make their deaths useful and punish as many of those damned savages as they can!”

“If that is how you view the subjects who offer you their fealty, you do not deserve to be their king.”

If the silence had been deafening before, it was nothing compared to what lingered in the air after Rhaella’s declaration. Aerys’ shock was written all over his countenance, staring at her like he was seeing her for the first time.

(Which he was. He had never wanted anything to do with her as children despite being so close in age, and after they married that distance had only increased as they both resented the position their family had forced them into.)

Finally taking hold of the fire they claimed lied in all Targaryens, Rhaella glared at the man they had chained her to. “You wear the crown of Aegon the Fourth. Do you remember what he is known as? He is known as the Unworthy. History remembers him as the worst king Westeros has ever had, and yet you chose to crown yourself with something that once graced his head. Westeros remembers him as the man who almost tore our country apart when he legitimized all of his bastards upon his death, leading to years upon years of Blackfyre Rebellions. Yet your legacy may be even worse than his, for even he did not have one kingdom secede. No, a man who does that does not deserve to be the king.”

When Aerys stood from the throne, face purple in rage as he all but lunged at her, perhaps it was a cruel twist of fate that it was the years of abuse he had forced upon her that kept her from cringing or stepping back in fear.

No, the only emotion she felt in that moment was satisfaction that no one would be able to turn a blind eye to the man he was after this.

Or rather, no one would have… had Aerys ever made it off the throne.

Instead, as he all but lunged off the throne, that man misjudged his angle and caught his arm on one of the swords lining the steps of the Iron Throne. When he cried out in pain, he stumbled too far to the side and let another cut a large gash on his side, causing him to fall on the steps of the throne, clutching his side in obvious pain.

Rhaella did not see Lord Tywin give the coldest look that had ever graced his face to Pycelle, warning him with that single gaze the consequences should that man survive this injury. She did not see the Kingsguard exchange looks, all frozen in shock and no small amount of relief. She did not see the rest of the court’s reactions, all of them in shock and many expressing the same relief.

No, all of her attention was on Aerys bleeding out on the throne, just as Maegor the Cruel once had, and on using the remaining sense she had left to not start laughing in joy and relief that it was finally over.

Rhaella was barely aware of things when Lord Tywin ordered the court out and for the Kingsguard to take the unconscious Aerys away for Pycelle to treat. She wasn’t aware of at least one of the Kingsguard following her as she left the room, questioning where she was going.

No, her awareness only returned when she forced a door to the courtyards open, finally able to feel the sun on her face after near nine years of captivity.

It was there, as she was surrounded by the outside air for the first time in years, that Rhaella fell to her knees and let the tears of relief fall down her face, for now she was finally free.

Later, she would be informed of how Aerys died in agony but a few hours after the court was dismissed, none of his final words understandable if Pycelle was to be believed. She would hold Viserys and sing him songs as he worried about what would happen next, staying with him the entire night. She would also order her quarters to be moved, refusing to sleep in the same room she had been a prisoner in for even one night more.

In the morning she would don the black dresses of mourning she was expected to as a newly widowed woman, choosing to wear a set of ruby jewelry her Aunt Rhaelle had given her for the first time in years as she listened to the words of sympathy courtesy demanded. In the evening, she would learn that her eldest son had already begun preparations to leave Dragonstone on the fastest ship the Velaryons could give him on such short notice.

That was later though. For now, Rhaella simply breathed in the fresh air and thanked the sun for finally freeing her and her people from the madman that had enslaved them for years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie, this chapter might possibly be the one I've been most excited to write in the entire fic.
> 
> Also a fun fact: Rhaegar was actually supposed to be in this chapter... but I kind of forgot about him until I went to edit and realized I didn't ever add him in. So he's in Dragonstone being Rhaegar currently.
> 
> Also, yep, Aerys threw one of his Kingsguard into the Black Cells for being Dornish. Poor Arthur Dayne... he will get a bit better fate than this though even if it won't be seen much, I promise.
> 
> Daenerys will not exist in this universe if you missed the mentions of Rhaella not being pregnant at this time. Or at least not as Aerys' daughter. (I have been toying with the idea of Rhaella remarrying someone who actually appreciates her, but I'm not sure she would want to carry another child after everything.)
> 
> Rhaena Targaryen was the wife of Aegon the Uncrowned and later forced to be one of the Black Brides. She tried to send her two daughters away without knowing where they were going, but Tyanna of the Tower somehow found them and used them to ensure she would marry Maegor without any defiance.
> 
> Aerys did apparently wear the crown of Aegon the Unworthy. To be fair, Daeron the Good crowned himself with it to show that he is in fact his son, but it's still not exactly a good idea to wear it.
> 
> I'll admit that I did debate for awhile on whether or not Aerys should die this early, but I will be honest and say that I just do not want to write him. I also want Rhaella to be able to do stuff, and it's hard to do that when she's locked up in only a few rooms. Don't worry, we still have Rhaegar, he who loves his prophecies and is kind of an idiot.
> 
> Next chapter: Loreza talks with her daughters.


	16. Loreza's Daughters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loreza talks with her daughters- or rather, the two she already has and the one she hopes she will have soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently if you use the tag "Loreza Martell" it merges into the stupid tag that is "Doran and Elia and Oberyn Martell's Mother." This pleases me.

**Sunspear**

Loreza was not a cruel woman by nature. She took no delight in bloodshed, and above all wished for her nation to know peace.

That did not in any way mean she was willing to extend any mercy to those that deserve none, as proven by refusing to give quarter to any who thought to commit treason against her rule when her husband, brother, or other trusted vassals dragged them before her. As such, the smile that crossed her face when she received a hurriedly written message from one of their spies telling of Aerys’ well deserved death should come as no surprise, not after what he had thought to do to her family and people.

Loreza wished she could crow about it from the highest towers, to let her people share in her joy, but with so few details known of what had happened it would be best to keep quiet for now. She had never truly made the acquaintance of the new king of the six kingdoms, and for all she knew he would follow in his father’s footsteps and speak of launching an attack on Dorne to try and force them to bow to his rule once more, something they would refuse to let happen, especially after these latest insults.

She had informed Doran of the news and his reaction had been to give the same satisfied smile as her. As it was his wife and daughter that had been threatened for not even the slightest reason along with his beloved younger sister, he had more than enough reason to be even angrier than her if that were even possible.

Her heir was the only one she informed for now, sadly enough. As they did not have any details other than that so-called dragon was dead and her dear Rhaella was alive, she chose to leave everyone else in the dark for now. It was best not to celebrate too early just in case something worse happened. And though she knew that the rest of the adult members of her family would all keep quiet if she ordered them to, her youngest two children would spend the rest of the week expressing suspicious levels of happiness.

Of course, as she herself went about her day with as much cheer as she showed when she learned that she would soon get a new grandchild, she would have to admit that her children got it from someone.

Regardless of the reason, Loreza was in a wonderful mood when the guard outside of her solar peeked her head in and informed her that the Lady Ellaria Uller had arrived to see her as she had requested.

The Uller woman gave her a deep curtsey when she entered the room. “Princess Loreza, you asked to speak to me?”

She smiled and gestured for her to rise. “Yes, please take a seat.”

Ellaria did, smoothing out her skirts and showing no trace of the nervousness she no doubt had to feel and simply looked at her with polite interest. Loreza approved of that and definitely had no qualms about what she was about to suggest.

She would ease into it though. Revered as Princess Meria was, sometimes bluntness was not the right course of action. Wasting time on smalltalk was not something she appreciated on the best of days however, and so she chose to start with a topic close to what she wished to discuss and that she held dear to her heart.

“My granddaughters have had nothing but good to say about you- or at least, when Nym wasn’t complaining about the fact that you refused to let her come in and sit on your lap as you talked to your own father about some such matter.”

That got a laugh from Ellaria, and she seemed to relax ever so slightly, though she still gazed at her with sharp eyes, seemingly trying to figure out where this was going. “I apologize for you having to deal with that, for Nym is the clingiest child I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

Loreza allowed herself to let out an amused breath, shaking her head with a fond smile on her face. “That may partially be my fault. She was the first grandchild I had the pleasure of meeting, and she was so happy to do nothing more than just sit on my lap as I took care of some issue or another.”

“Really? Your son believes he was the one to do it and that he should not have let her come in and cuddle him every night when he first found her, no matter how sad she was to be leaving her family in Volantis. Obara blames him for that too; while we were at the Water Gardens she even came and dumped her on us one night, telling him that he gets to deal with the fallout of his actions. She did apologize to me in the morning for being grumpy enough to punish me for doing nothing wrong, however, and Nym is sweet enough that her coming in for whatever reason does not bother me at all.”

That got a full laugh out of Loreza even as she was inwardly pleased that this woman did not even attempt to hide what her relationship with Oberyn was like. She had to know that she had been told of how her youngest son had found someone willing to stay in his bed for more than a couple of days, yes, but other women would have downplayed it or at least refuse to make such a blatant reference to it.

“I am glad,” the Princess of Dorne said, still with a fond smile on her face. “With Elia soon to leave us, those girls need another female role model to fill the gap.”

It was subtle, but all the previous tension was back in Ellaria’s frame as she gazed at her warily. “They have two other aunts and a grandmother. They do not need another woman who could not stay as their father’s paramour.”

Loreza raised an eyebrow at that. While glad that it did not take long for her to connect the dots as she could not stand idiocy, she had not expected that kind of reaction. “A paramour? You would not wish to be a wife?”

All control Ellaria seemed to have over her expressions evaporated at that if the way she gaped at her in complete and utter shock was any indication. “A wife?”

“Does the idea not please you?” While the woman in front of her did not seem to be the type to care overmuch for status, there were few who would deny that the idea of marrying into House Martell pleased them. And when the Ullers had come to discuss legitimizing her, she had seemed genuinely interested in starting a family of her own…

Ellaria closed her eyes and looked away. “Your grace, please do not taunt me. We both know that a bastard- even a legitimized one- cannot marry a prince.”

Oh. _Oh._

Loreza stood up from her desk and walked over to the chair nearest Ellaria. She wished she could take her hands just as she would her daughters or sons, but she had no idea how it would be taken. As a compromise, she laid a hand on the nearest armrest.

“Ellaria- may I just call you Ellaria?” At her nod, she continued, “Perhaps before that would be true, but things are different now. You were legitimized before you even met my son, and are the only child of your House, so it is not much different than another woman would be. And if the gods are good, Oberyn will never inherit the Sunchair. My eldest has a daughter already, and I pray there shall be more eventually. And as much as I love my son, let’s face it, you’re possibly the only one that is willing to stay with him for longer than a day.”

Ellaria let out an amused breath at that, but still looked at her warily. “Are you approving of this match for your son because I am an Uller? Would you be the same if I were, say, an Allyrion?”

“No.” Loreza had not expected her to assume that she had offered this betrothal only for politics, but her denial was immediate.

On a whim, she reached out to take her hands, holding them gently enough that she could pull back at any moment.

The Rhoynar had brought with them many different customs that the Dornish had happily adopted. One of them was taking the hands of another as a sign of trust, for how could they use their hands against someone if they were held?

Loreza only took her hands as gently as she could, holding them lightly enough so the woman next to her could pull back at any moment. “No,” she repeated in a gentle voice, “if politics played any part in his marriage this year, I would have sent him to visit the Orphans of the Greenblood. The celebrations for this year are for House Nymeros _Martell_ unifying Dorne. Ulman Uller may have been Nymeria’s second consort, but not until after the war was over, and it was her children with Mors that held both Rhoynish and Martell blood that inherited Dorne. No, this is because I wish for my son and granddaughters to be happy.”

Ellaria looked at her, something shining in her eyes that she couldn’t quite identify, and after a moment gave her a small smile and fully took her hands, squeezing them.

Loreza smiled at her. “You do not have to answer now. Talk to Oberyn. Tell him that it is possible if that is what you wish, for I know my son well and know he would not dare dream of this himself.”

Ellaria snorted, shaking her head with a fond smile. “No. That may be part of his charm, if I am honest.”

With that, she stood and gave her a curtsy just as deep as the first one she gave. “I will think on your words. Is there a time you wish for our answer by?”

“If you choose to marry, I would prefer to announce it before the party from Great Moraq arrives in the next fortnight, but no, there is not.”

Ellaria nodded, gave another curtsy, and walked out of the door.

Loreza watched her go before letting out a sigh, taking a glance at her desk. There was nothing pressing that required her attention for the first time this past moon by the gods’ mercy, so she stood, adjusted her skirts, and left to go to her daughter’s quarters.

She passed by several servants on the way there, all of whom acknowledged her with genuine smiles and bows or curtsies that she herself acknowledged with a smile and nod of her own before they carried on with their tasks.

Elia wasn’t alone in her solar, as Loreza had half expected, or even with some of her ladies or at least with Myria and Ashara, as the other half of her expected. No, her daughter was with Mellario, her gooddaughter holding a golden bolt of fabric over Elia’s outstretched arm as they discussed how it would look.

A bolt of fabric, Loreza realized with a pang, that she knew was one of the silks her daughter had set aside to create her wedding lehenga.

Both of her daughters startled a bit when she walked in, Mellario scrambling to keep ahold of the silk even as she instinctively reached up to adjust her veil while Elia simply looked at her in surprise, but quickly beamed at her. “Mama! I thought you would be in meetings all morning.”

Loreza smiled at them, lowering herself into the closest chair to them that was not completely covered in fabric. “I only had one this morning, thank the Crone, and I believe it went well, though I shall not know the full results quite yet,” she replied, making certain she would say nothing about who it had been with. While neither of them would be anything but excited at the possibility, whatever was decided was between no one but Oberyn and Ellaria themselves. She refused to speculate on her children’s romantic lives, for that path was more exhausting than actually ruling Dorne.

Mellario sighed, placing the bolt of fabric she held on a low table. “I am glad you were spared that fate today. Doran is still at the ports, going over the accommodations for the new ships once again.”

Loreza felt slightly guilty at having delegated that to her son, but at one point she had a stack of paperwork as tall as her that could not be put aside, so she had just not had the energy to deal with this as well. “Do not worry, it cannot be much longer. We already sorted out the bulk of it a few moons ago, this is simply to make certain nothing has changed.”

Her gooddaughter inclined her head at that, but said nothing else. She felt even more guilty at that. Mellario had never breathed a word of it to her, but she knew that these last moons had weighed on her. With Elia deep in preparations for her own wedding and Loreza herself working to sort out all of the details that came with their newfound independence, it had fallen upon Mellario to deal with all the duties required of hosting so many of their bannermen. She had thought she would be able to help her back when they had thought that their bannermen would only now be arriving for the wedding, but alas…

Loreza mentally shook her head, turning instead to inspect the fabric laid out. “Have you not started your wedding outfit yet?” Her daughter’s wedding would take place in the next two moons, and she remembered her own mother fussing over her outfit when she married Maron for at least half a year. Of course, Princess Aliandra had been very conscious about appearances (something Oberyn had sadly inherited despite having never met his grandmother) and Loreza herself had no talent for sewing or creating outfits, but it did seem like they were cutting it close.

Elia bit her lips and looked away. “We have the design done, and will start sewing soon, but…”

“But?”

“We originally thought to make the main color orange, as eldest daughters of our House usually wear for their wedding. But… I have been thinking of changing that to gold. To remind everyone of papa.”

The old grief fought to rise up once more. Oh, how Maron had spoken of how beautiful a bride their daughter would make when she was younger and would excitedly tell them of the plans she, Ashara, and Myria made for their future weddings even as he had said that any man wishing to marry her would need to first meet him in combat, to prove they could take care of her. He would never be able to do that, and though Doran was there and more than willing to take up the mantle, he would never be able to fully fill the hole that Maron had left.

Loreza couldn’t stop the bittersweet smile from crossing her face as she took her daughter’s hands. “If you wish to wear gold, no one will say anything against you honoring your paternal family,” she reassured her softly.

Elia smiled at her in relief. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Mellario busy herself with sorting through some of the fabrics they had laid out. Perhaps her gooddaughter felt out of place when they talked about the dearly missed member of their family, but she was just relieved that Mellario had never yet had to feel the same kind of loss.

After a moment, Loreza leaned back in her chair and said, “Whatever the main color is, you should know that I am having Nymeria’s necklace brought out, and that I wish for you to wear it when you marry.”

Nymeria’s necklace was one of the few things their revered ancestor had managed to take with her when she fled Ny Sar. The orange gems set in gold were said to have been treated with Rhoynish water magic for in this past millennium they had never once began to dull, and it was traditional for all soon to be ruling princesses or princess consorts to wear her necklace with very few exceptions. Mellario herself had worn it during her own wedding only a couple of years ago.

Elia looked at her with no little amount of shock. “Mama, I’m not-“

“You will not be the Ruling Princess of Dorne, but you will soon be a Sultana. It would be remiss of us not to show your heritage, or remind everyone of the fact that you will always be a daughter of Dorne.”

Before either of them could say anything more, Mellario interrupted by saying, “She is correct. You will have to adapt, and your children will be raised as Moraqi, but you do not have to lose all of your birth culture. Any man who actually cares for you will not force you to.”

Loreza was suddenly filled with gratitude towards her gooddaughter. She could never know what it was like to move to a completely different land, for that had never been in the cards for her. As she was the eldest of her generation, it had never been her fate from the moment she was born. Despite Elia’s consent of the match and the sheer relief she felt that she would not have the life she would have faced had they been forced to send her to that forsaken city, she had worried for her daughter. Mellario though had already faced similar amounts of culture shock and so was more equipped to help prepare her in this regard, as proven by how her daughter subtly relaxed at those words.

Elia sighed, but slowly nodded. “If you feel I should wear Nymeria’s necklace, I will mother.”

Loreza shook her head, retaking her hands. “It is not that I feel you should, it is that I want you to wear it. I want you to wear what is quite possibly the oldest artifact of our people, as you are a daughter of our House and deserve to.”

Elia didn’t say anything for a long moment, simply reaching forward with shining eyes and initiating a hug that Loreza gladly returned. “How can I do without you, mama?” she finally whispered into her shoulder.

Loreza simply held her daughter and stroked her hair. “My beloved sun, I will miss you as well. But I know that you will do well in whatever you set out to accomplish. You are the daughter of your ancestors, a daughter of Mother Rhoyne and their strength lies within you. I know you will thrive in your new role.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect Loreza to be quite this blunt when dealing with family when I started writing her. She just looked at all the duties she has as Ruling Princess and decided she has no energy to cater to her children dallying when thinking about things.
> 
> On Ellaria marrying Oberyn: Yes, she was born out of wedlock. But she's the only child left to House Uller and was legitimized before even meeting Oberyn. Not only that, but Oberyn is a third son and is freaking Oberyn. No one else wants to deal with him as a goodson/brother/whatever. I will say that if it was Doran, it might not have happened.
> 
> You know, I think I'm going to have Maron Gargalen alive in the Rhoynish Water Magic AU that I really need to come up with a title for. The Martells deserve to be a happy family.
> 
> (Speaking of that au, I thought for a moment on whether or not I was going to make Dorne way too powerful... and then I remembered some of the Powerful North stuff I've seen and realized that no, I'm really not. Because geeze some of those stories...)
> 
> For the record, Loreza primarily believes in the Seven. I just feel that there is some casual reverence towards Mother Rhoyne going on in Dorne, especially among the houses along the Greenblood and Sunspear, plus her own beloved grandmother was an Orphan of the Greenblood.
> 
> Two more things:  
> 1) Would you guys like to see a somewhat filler chapter of Ellaria getting used to being an (un)official part of House Martell before the Moraqi party gets here? It would explain a few details about a few things, but largely just be family time, so I'll leave it up to you guys whether or not that should get moved to to a spin off one shot since it won't be particularly plot advancing. (Please also note it would come between a chapter where we see Rhaella again and the Moraqi party arriving.)  
> 2) Monday, please expect an amusing one shot involving Loreza's continuous urge to slam her head against her desk at the men in her life's approach to romance. I have no idea where it came from, but it just did.
> 
> Next chapter: Oberyn and Ellaria talk.


	17. That Would Be Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oberyn and Ellaria talk about the future

**Sunspear**

If Oberyn was honest with himself, he should really just stop going back to his rooms for the specific purpose of taking a nap. He always, without fail, got thwarted in some way. Usually by Nym coming in and soliciting cuddles. He loved his daughter so much, but dear whatever existed she was so clingy. At least Ellaria thought it was charming and adorable…

But there unfortunately had to be a reason why when he was woken up by someone opening his door and walk towards him with small footsteps, and sadly enough he couldn't just ignore whoever it was. Assuming that it was said middle daughter he groaned and flatly stated, “Please go bug your abuela or aunts or uncles for cuddles. Papa wants to take a nap alone today.”

Contrary to his expectations, it was not in fact Nym, as proved by the child saying in a very indignant voice, “I don’t want any dumb cuddles!”

Oberyn immediately shot up and stared at Obara. His eldest very rarely interrupted him for anything that wasn’t trying to get him to spar with her, and he had already done that with her this morning. “Obara? What has happened?”

His eldest scowled at him. “Nothing. Except Viddy was following me around again.”

“Your cousin just looks up to you and wants to learn from you.”

“No. I just don’t try to force him to give me cuddles like my dumb sister.”

Rolling his eyes because they all knew that Obara adored all of the younger members of their family despite how much she complained about their love of cuddles, he instead asked, “Then why are you here as it is obviously not for cuddles?”

“I saw Ellaria leaving abuela’s solar.”

“And? Your abuela has been meeting with a lot of the nobles lately. She was probably with her father or uncle and just left before them.”

“Abuela left soon after her. Don’t think she’d leave them alone there.”

Oberyn blinked. “What? Are you sure she was alone?”

Obara nodded. “Ellaria was alone too. She went in the direction of the gardens. She looked lost in thought, like she hadn’t ever thought of something before.”

The youngest prince of Dorne looked away, sighing and rubbing a hand over his face. What could his mother have talked to her about to make her look like that? It wasn’t telling her to leave his bed, she would have taken him to task long before now if that was what she wanted. And if it was something involving the Hellholt, she would have had either Harmen or Ulwyck be there as well. “What do you want me to do? Whatever Ellaria is thinking about, I doubt she wants me there.”

If anyone ever thought for a single moment that Obara wasn’t his, all they would have to do was take one look at her completely unimpressed expression and realize that it was the exact same as the one her grandmother often wore when dealing with family or friends. Princess Loreza wouldn’t literally climb on the bed and start trying to push him off though, something that almost succeeded due to his shock.

“Go. Talk. To. Ellaria.” Obara demanded. “Stop being dumber than Uncle Doran was when Aunt Mellario made him explain just why he thought doing that thing for Ari’s nameday feast was a good idea.”

Oberyn really didn’t have any way to counter that because that had been a really dumb move on his brother’s part and he didn’t want his daughters to think he was anywhere close to that dumb, so he just raised his hands in surrender, put his shoes on, and headed down to the gardens.

It took a little bit of searching, but he eventually found Ellaria standing in front of a red hibiscus bush, examining a flower with a tender smile on her face.

Watching her like this… Mother Rhoyne he was fucked, and not even literally this time, sadly enough.

Oberyn knew he had a habit of meeting someone, coming up with his own opinion of them, and never changing it unless something very odd happened, something that annoyed his mother to no end, but he hadn’t expected what he had felt when he saw Ellaria for the first time.

There was the expected lust as one would expect from him as she was indeed beautiful and held herself with a grace he could very much appreciate (and had numerous times over this past moon), but the moment he saw her kneel down in front of his youngest and calm her down so caringly, and then later when his daughters took to her so quickly… He didn’t know what to call that emotion.

(That was a lie. He did know what it was. He had known since he saw her let a crying Nym cuddle her one night when she had come to them after a nightmare and calmed her down with more tenderness than he had seen since he himself was a child. It just terrified him more than anything else he had ever experienced and he didn’t want to acknowledge it because he didn’t see how it would bring anything other than just pain.)

It did not take Ellaria long to notice him, and she turned around all tense before relaxing when she saw it was him. He couldn’t quite read the look on her face as she stared at him, but after a long moment she smiled at him so tenderly it confused him.

Before he could say a word, she looked back at the flowers and said, “You know, this is where I first met Tyene.”

Oberyn walked over to her, looking at the flowers himself. It did explain why she had one of them in her hair when he had first met her, but… “How did she get all the way over there? She’s one and Obara and Nym had barely lost her for ten minutes.”

“You’re underestimating how far toddlers can get when you look away for so much as half a second. Especially ones as industrious as yours. But yes, this is where I first saw her. She really wanted to see the flowers, but misjudged her steps and tripped. She gave me one of these flowers as thanks for helping her. I still have it actually- when I returned to my rooms after our ride I pressed it into a journal. It’s a nice keepsake for meeting such a sweet girl and her family.”

“Tyene is sweet alright,” Oberyn muttered, thinking of how he was certain she was the one that somehow managed to get an eel in the pools of the Water Gardens during their trip. Twice. He shook his head before changing the topic. “What are you doing out here? You mentioned you had some things to take care of last night. Obara and Nym were sad that Ulwyck won’t be able to show them his knife collection today like they wanted, so I thought you’d be with your uncle.”

Maybe he should be more worried about how much his daughters liked the Ullers considering it was the Ullers, but they were already shaping up to be dangerous enough without their input so it couldn’t be too bad. Most of his personal quirks came from his parents, neither of whom had any recent Uller blood, after all.

Ellaria looked away at that, reaching out and stroking one of the flowers. “It turns out that I was mistaken. All I had was one meeting, and it revealed some things that I must think about.”

“Obara said she saw you leave my mother’s solar not long ago.”

Oberyn could curse himself for coming out and mentioning it because that had not been in his plans. (Well, what little plans he had made for this at least… which was none. He was not the planner of their family, part of the reason why he was glad that Doran was the heir and not him. He could plan if he tried… it just wasn’t exactly in his nature.)

Thankfully, Ellaria simply looked amused. “Let me guess, she woke you up from your nap and all but literally pushed you out of bed?”

“It was literally, actually.”

Ellaria laughed at that, a sound he didn’t think he would ever tire of hearing. “Aww, the poor Red Viper, always thwarted from his plans to nap on a warm rock by his rambunctious offspring,” she teased him.

“Just wait, they’ll be bugging you all the time soon enough.”

This time, Oberyn really did curse. (In Moraqi this time. He had found out that they had a lovely word that perfectly fit this kind of situation.)

His companion bit her lip and closed her eyes for a brief moment before saying, “We should talk about that. Is there anywhere slightly more secure we could talk?”

Heart sinking, he led her a little further into the gardens to one of the few fountains the Sunspear gardens held, this particular one consisting of the Old Man of the River bowing to a flow of water, representing Mother Rhoyne and her consort. Little as he held to any gods, he couldn’t stop himself from running his hand through the water, silently begging the Rhoynish goddess to not take Ellaria away from them quite yet. His own feelings aside, he didn’t know how he’d be able to explain to his daughters that a woman they already looked up to was leaving so soon.

Ellaria bit her lip again, looking down at her hands, before taking in a deep breath and looking at him with resolve in her eyes. “Princess Loreza called me in to speak to me of a marriage between the two of us, something I… don’t have any issue with upon further reflection.”

Of all the things that Oberyn had thought would come out of her mouth, that was not one of them. Rather eloquently, he asked, “What?”

She rolled her eyes at him, which he admittedly deserved. “I know you don’t think me ugly in any way, so that cannot be your objection.”

“Do you really think I’d marry someone because I thought they were pretty?” he asked, surprising himself with the sudden hurt in his voice.

Ellaria looked stricken as she hastily shook her head in denial. “No, I do not. I did not mean it that way.”

Oberyn let out a breath at that, running a hand over his face and internally cursing himself for saying something like that without thinking. To be fair, his mother had never actually discussed marriage with him. Yes, there had been that botched betrothal trip years ago and then his mother and sister had not so subtly pushed Ashara towards him when they were fifteen, but those were the only two occasions he could think of. Loreza Martell had focused more on trying to find someone Doran would like and later on looking for options for Elia and thus had never truly tried to make him find a partner... and he knew why that was.

“Why?” he finally asked.

Ellaria shrugged. “I think the Princess’ reasons boiled down to the girls like me and I am the first person who’s shown any willingness to stay in your bed.”

Given Doran’s own marriage that was probably her actual reasons. But that had not been what he had meant. “No, why would you want to marry me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I can think of several reasons why.”

Ellaria sighed, giving him the same tender look as before as she took his hands. (Somehow, despite all of the different positions they had been in together, her taking his hands so gently felt like the most intimate thing they had done.)

“You might be the most insecure man I have met despite your reputation,” she said wryly. “Why you got it was beyond me, for everyone knows Yronwood deserved it and you were just doing the world a favor.”

Before he could say how thankful he was that someone finally vocally agreed with him on that subject, she continued, “When I saw you at the feasts we all attended before I had the pleasure of meeting you, I did agree with the people that thought you were handsome. But seeing you with the sand snakes, seeing how gentle you are with them? That was when you started to truly become attractive to me. The man I always knew I wanted to spend my life with is one that would adore any children he had. You took in all three of your daughters without caring what it would do for your reputation, and you care for them so much it’s obvious.

“I don’t care about your reputation or casual bloodthirstiness. It’s nothing I haven’t seen growing up in the Hellholt. I care about how tenderly you treat your mother and sister, of how much you respect them. I care about how learned you are and willing to teach others without being obnoxious about it if they genuinely wish to know something. I care about how you would not ever dream of forcing me to change if we were together.”

Ellaria let go of one of his hands to instead cup his cheek, giving him a soft smile. “I do not know if I love you quite yet. But what I feel is not simple lust nor friendship, and I can see myself coming to easily. I do not ever want to leave you or the girls, I know that for certain.”

To literally no one’s surprise, Oberyn’s first reaction was to lean forward and kiss her.

It was a very enjoyable kiss.

When they finally pulled away, he couldn’t keep his grin off of his face, which made her laugh at him and point out how dopey it looked, which caused a few minutes of very lighthearted bickering and more soft kisses.

Once they had gotten the teasing out of their systems, Ellaria smirked at him (and he was a little sad that Doran had ruined his fun years ago by lecturing him on how the gardens were not a good place to have a tryst) and pointed out, “You still haven't given me your answer.”

“The kiss didn’t say enough?”

“I’m not sure. Perhaps you should kiss me again, so I can hear it once more.”

How was he supposed to deny that request? It wasn’t possible, so he grinned and leaned over to lock lips with her once more for another extremely enjoyable kiss.

When they pulled back once more, he grinned at her and said, “If you’re willing to put up with my mother taking no shit from any of us, Obara’s love of fighting, Nym’s love of fighting while acting like a lady, Tyene acting innocent all the time even though she already loves pranks- actually I think she gets that from Elia- and Doran’s Doran-ness, _yes.”_

Ellaria laughed. “Considering the shenanigans my father and uncle get up to, that is no challenge. In fact, I believe I get the better deal in this.”

He laughed at that quite possibly true statement, and for several minutes they simply leaned against each other and just enjoyed each other’s company.

After a few minutes, the silence was broken by his lover asking, “Does this mean we must stop going to the Shadow City and sharing our pleasure with others?”

Oberyn snorted at her depressed tone. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh. Good.” Ellaria seemed to lean even more into him at that. “Sometimes it is very enjoyable to have another person writhe between us.”

“And this is why I like you.”

“I should probably not be involved in any pleasure with another man when we want to give our little snakes a little sibling, unfortunately.”

Oberyn couldn’t help but kiss her hair at that, smile widening at how easily she counted his daughters as her own even as he scoffed. “Who’s going to bother trying to fight that battle?”

“There are some idiots in this world.”

“Unfortunately true.”

Ellaria sighed and stood up, closing her eyes and looking away from him for a brief moment before saying, “We should tell the girls.”

Oberyn rose an eyebrow and grabbed her hands until she looked at him. “Ellaria, I’m somewhat surprised Tyene isn’t already trying to call you ‘mama,’ you really don’t need to worry about how they’ll react.”

Ellaria just smiled wryly at him and shook her head. “I don’t.”

That wasn’t exactly an answer but he knew that sometimes words did nothing, so he simply stood up and they headed back to the family quarters.

After looking a few places, they finally found all three of the sand snakes in his rooms, Nym trying to read one of his poison texts to Tyene while Obara sat there and looked very annoyed at having to help her younger sister figure out how to pronounce words she didn't know because she didn’t have much better luck sometimes. Before either of her older siblings could say a single word Tyene beamed and and pointed to the text, saying, “I pick story!”

It was at this moment that Oberyn finally realized just why Elia thought that reading poison texts to his very impressionable daughters was a bad idea. He wanted his daughters to be able to protect themselves, but the one-year-old asking her older sisters to read her those kinds of texts without him around…

Thankfully, he did not have to figure out what to say to that as Ellaria decided not to waste any time and said, “I believe we have news that is far more interesting than learning how to mix together various poisons.”

“Is it another sister that Nym will make annoy me with cuddles all the time?” Obara asked.

Nym glared at her for that. “You like cuddles!”

“I don’t! You force me to give you them all the time even though I keep protesting!”

Ellaria let out a deep sigh at that. “I’m not pregnant. It’s something else.”

All three little snakes looked at them expectantly. (Or at least they did after Obara and Nym glared at each other one last time and Tyene stopped giggling at her sisters.) Despite having been the one to bring it up, Ellaria looked a little lost as to what to say, so Oberyn took over.

He cleared his throat before doing his best to mask his own nervousness and asked, “Would you like Ellaria to stay her permanently? As my wife and your step mother?”

All three little snakelings blinked as one before Tyene stood up and toddled over to them, tugging on Ellaria’s skirts and asking, “’Larie be mama?”

“If that’s what you and your sisters want,” she replied softly, leaning down to stroke her hair.

Tyene beamed at her and raised her arms up asking for a hug while saying, “Mama stay!”

Oberyn would never call Ellaria out for tearing up at that, for he’d freely admit that he felt something get into his eye too, especially when Nym enthusiastically joined the hug and Obara acted like she only joined the hug because everyone else did.

They came to an unspoken agreement that they would go to his mother tomorrow and tell her of their decision then, for they did not want this moment to end. It was between no one but their own little branch of the family.

Instead, they spent the rest of the afternoon and evening spending time with the little sand snakes, entertaining them and ordering dinner for themselves in his solar and just generally having a very pleasant night, hopefully to be the first of many.

Tyene fell asleep cuddling the woman she had enthusiastically started calling mama, and neither of them had the heart to take her and her sisters back to the nursery. Instead, he went and got some blankets and they all made themselves comfortable on one of the pillow piles he had in his solar. Nym claimed a spot between the two adults while Obara claimed a blanket of her own on the other side of him, far enough away that she wasn’t touching them, but closer than was her usual want.

Oberyn drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face and the four dearest women on the earth surrounding him. He didn’t know what he did to deserve this, but he was thankful all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the chapter title is a Hamilton reference. I'm sorry we watched it this weekend and it's been stuck in my head since and this particular song kind of fits this chapter...
> 
> You know, with Loreza living longer than she did in canon, it's going to change a lot, especially regarding her granddaughters. The Sand Snakes will be a billion times more terrifying (and Obara will have another role model showing her that fighting isn't the only thing that shows strength, though she'll still be Obara), and Arianne will get to spend her childhood watching her grandmother rule Dorne.
> 
> The Old Man of the River is a giant turtle that is said to be Mother Rhoyne's consort. The Old Men of the River, giant turtles that show up along the Rhoyne, are named after him.  
> (Speaking of, I can't decide, would they have actual depictions of Mother Rhoyne in art? I have some ideas for what they would make her look like, but I'm not sure whether I should or not.)
> 
> You know that the first thing they'd talk about would be having sex with others. It's Oberyn and Ellaria we're talking about here, plus I want Sarella to exist because I love all of the Sand Snakes. Ellaria is serious about not having sex with other men often though. While her kids probably will never inherit the Sunchair, letting there be any doubt as to whether they're Oberyn's or not is not a great idea.
> 
> Tyene is one. I figured she would be pretty quick to start calling Ellaria mama. Nym might as well in time, and Obara... well, she might call her mom around baby sisters, which should say everything.
> 
> Oh, I posted another fic for this series last night! If you want to read Loreza being absolutely done with the men of her family and how quick they are to fall in love, look in the series and you'll find it ^^
> 
> Next chapter: Rhaella and Tywin talk.


	18. Holding Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaella and Tywin talk about where things will go from here.

**King’s Landing**

The last sennight had been like something from a dream for Rhaella.

When Jenny’s witch, the one that she prayed was damned to all of the Seven Hells for her crimes, had spoken of how she needed to be chained to her brother in a marriage neither of them wanted, it was true that her beloved Aunt Rhaelle had been the only one to publicly protest, the rest of her so-called family too interested in a “prophecy” spoken by a woman with every reason to lie to care about what they wanted. But that had almost not been the worst of it all.

Betha Blackwood, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, had taken ill with some sickness before that incident. It had not been contagious, and she had seemed to have rallied and was on the way to making a full recovery when she had been told of that betrothal.

The maester would not say it to any of the royal family’s faces, but it was clear that her outburst at that announcement had been what led to the relapse that led to her death.

Betha had barred almost every single member of the Targaryen family from her chambers after that, derisively telling her own husband and children that they were no longer welcome after their actions. She had allowed Aunt Rhaelle to visit her one last time before she was all but officially banished back to Storm’s End to prevent her from interfering, but her care was left to one of her Blackwood sisters and nieces by her own wishes.

Her grandmother had only one exception. As the end drew nearer, she had called in Rhaella herself. Despite not being able to move from her bed and knowing she would not see the next sunrise, Betha Blackwood still showed that her mind had not been affected by her illness. She had taken Rhaella’s hand and tearfully assured her that she would be free one day, and to remember that she had both Blackwood and Dornish blood in her, two bloodlines that she could truly be proud of.

Rhaella had not been in the room when Betha breathed her last, but it had not been out of any anger towards her on Betha’s part. No, she had been given a choice whether to stay or go, though her grandmother had told her that she knew how hard it would be to watch someone she loved die, and it would never be a strike against her if she chose to leave.

(Perhaps someone looking from the outside could forgive Aegon V for not doing anything to stop the marriage in his grief after his wife died. They would be wrong, for Betha had made it clear that she did not agree with the marriage before her death and yet he had never put his foot down, just as he had stood aside and let all of his children but Rhaelle, the youngest who was never truly given a choice, shirk their duty to the realm.)

It had taken two whole decades, but her grandmother’s words had finally come true. She was finally _free_ from all of the pain and abuse she had been forced to endure for years.

It did not hurt that her actions had caused more than a few whispers to start.

Maegor the Cruel had been found dead on the Iron Throne by one of the Black Brides, that was known as a fact. One of the rumors surrounding his death was that Queen Elinor Costayne herself, the one that had found him that blessed morning in fact, had killed him to free herself from his tyranny.

There were many witnesses to Aerys’ death so Rhaella was cleared of any suspicion of kinslaying, but her actions had still led to people being reminded of Queen Elinor.

Now there were whispers that it was the Queens of the realm that held the true power of the throne. Two kings had died on it, and it was very possible that two queens had been the ones to cause it. No one accused Rhaella of anything especially as none of them actually mourned Aerys, but it did make them wonder if Aegon’s sister-wives had a hand in the construction of the Iron Throne and woven magic in it that their descendants could access against madmen.

Rhaella could not say whether it was true or not. She certainly had not consciously wished for Aerys’ death no matter how little she mourned him now, for in her eyes her brother had died the night he refused to not consummate their marriage in hopes that they could annul it when he became king.

But perhaps this would make the men who thought themselves kings think more carefully before treating their Queens like trash.

When her eldest son finally arrived in King’s Landing, it was to a sense of celebration and relief from the smallfolk. Aerys had not been popular to say the very least, and they had high hopes that Rhaegar would be better.

Rhaella greeted him in the front courtyard, wearing the mourning black that she desperately wished she could discard and a set of gold jewelry, this set a gift her dear Loreza had given her before everything had fallen to pieces.

Upon seeing her son, she gave him a quick curtsey and embraced him with a smile on her face, pretending not to notice the confusion on his face when he saw her, no doubt wondering why she was outside despite him having been old enough to remember the times she walked through the gardens with him, telling him of all the plants they held when he asked.

She had thought he treasured those memories as much as she did, for they were some of the few bright spots in two decades of pain. She wondered if she should get used to her son disappointing her, especially since, instead of calling a meeting of the Small Council or talking with any of those in charge of the various functions of the Red Keep, he instead declared that he wished to be alone in his quarters, asking for several texts to be brought to him to study.

She had hoped that becoming king would make her son finally take charge as he should have long ago, but it seemed that yet again her hopes were in vain.

(Not only that, she was worried. Jaehaerys II had also loved perusing through different texts, and though he was said to have ruled well as king, he had also been the one to force her to live the life she had. Had she not raised Rhaegar right? She swore that Viserys at least would not turn out like his sire or how she feared his brother would be.)

(Perhaps she was being a little harsh, thinking that he had to immediately take charge with no time to rest. But after Aerys’ cruelty and how Rhaegar had stayed on Dragonstone despite knowing what the late king had wanted them to do from the start of this entire fiasco none of them had the luxury.)

Rhaella had hoped her son would immediately take charge, yes, but she had long since learned to prepare for reality. With that in mind, she took care of a few matters for the welcoming feast she had ordered for her son before sending a servant off with a request for Lord Tywin to meet her in her solar.

She had long been powerless to change anything. She refused to let that continue, and her first step would be to make that fact clear to the Hand of the King.

There was also the fact that she knew Tywin did not feel so much as a single drop of grief for Aerys. It would be relieving to spend time with someone else she didn’t have to even pretend to show the slightest grief around.

When the Lord of Casterly Rock arrived, she had no doubt that he had come simply to humor her or to listen to her hurried apologies of Rhaegar’s behavior.

Rhaella chose to do differently. She nodded at Amista to pour them both glasses of cider and said, “You no doubt have ideas of how to deal with the situation we find ourselves in. I do as well, and I would prefer for us to compare them before attempting to put anything into action.”

As she resolutely held his gaze, she could see for herself the slight shock that entered Tywin’s eyes before it was replaced with calculation. “You have wasted no time in grief.”

It was not an accusation. It was a simple statement. Because of that, she simply shrugged and took a sip of her drink. “I have no wish to be idle any longer.”

Something like respect entered his eyes at that before quickly returning to his usual cold stare. He took a sip of his own drink before saying, “I assume you mean to discuss the Dornish situation.”

There were a lot of things that needed to be discussed after everything Aerys had done, but this was the subject with the longest reaching consequences. While Rhaella wondered if it was even possible, she would do her best to stave off her family’s fall now that she was able to do more than sit in a room with nothing but the barest traces of hope that waned more and more each day.

“Yes. The only outcome that could possibly maintain the status quo is if Dorne suddenly went against everything they hold dear and agreed to rejoin the rest of Westeros, despite the fact that they have no reason to as they declared themselves independent for legitimate reasons.”

Tywin gave a derisive scoff at that, causing Rhaella to pin him with a look. “Tell me, what would you have done if that man had ordered you to send him Cersei with the same restrictions he had planned to place on Princess Elia? If he had called Joanna a foreign whore and ordered you to send her and Jaime to a brothel in Essos?”

“I would have done everything in my power to see him meet his end in a fitting way.”

Given everything he had done to his family’s enemies in the Westerlands, she did not doubt that the fate he would have given Aerys would have been anything but the subject of a song to rival the Rains of Castamere. Perhaps it would even surpass it; the look on his face was enough to make her suspect that to be true, for as cold as he had turned since her beloved Joanna’s death the set of his eyes showed a whole new level.

At that acknowledgement, Rhaella spread her arms in agreement. “To Princess Loreza, watching that man make a fool of himself and die from his actions with barely any energy exerted on her part would be her ideal end for him. And even though he is dead and I am certain Rhaegar has no wish to make the same demands as his predecessor, she has every reason to believe that any agreements reached will be broken. I have seen copies of the very treaties King Daeron the Good made with Prince Maron, and Aerys did indeed spit upon the assurances Dorne was given in return for their fealty.”

Tywin did not look happy about it, but he would not deny something as plain to the eye as that fact. No doubt he thought that the Dornish had freedoms they didn’t deserve and would be happy to find a way to get rid of them like many of the nobles north of the Red Mountains, but he was not foolish enough to walk into a bed of snakes. “Nor are the other two likely outcomes ideal.”

“No,” Rhaella answered, taking advantage of the break in conversation to refill her drink.

Rhaegar could call on his Kingdoms to march on Dorne to force them to submit to the Iron Throne once more, yes. But wars in Dorne had never been favorable to any but the Dornish themselves. Daeron the First had managed to seemingly conquer the country, yes, but he conquered a Dorne that had no warning of his advance, and had dealt with years of fierce resistance even before being killed.

The Dorne they would be facing in that scenario would be none of those. Varys had not found out the details of their agreement with Great Moraq and would not anytime soon as all of his “little birds” had been apprehended shortly before independence had been declared, much to Rhaella’s vicious satisfaction as she had not liked the eunuch from the moment he had arrived in King’s Landing. He had his own agenda, one that she was certain did not align with her family's. As soon as she could, she would suggest that he be dismissed… and for the ship returning him to Essos to be involved in an “accident.” Regardless of her feelings on the subject, due to Varys' failure, they had no knowledge of the exact number of ships they were receiving, only that both Starfall and the Tor- both ideal locations for defending their shores, being on the Sunset Sea and the Sea of Dorne respectively- were getting expanded ports to house them.

There was also the fact that she doubted any of the lords would be enthusiastic about fighting a war in Dorne. Lord Stark would not see the benefits of sending his men to die so far from his borders, in a climate more alien to the Northmen than it was to the rest of the continent, and while she had heard of the new Lord Baratheon’s love of the training grounds her house’s position in the Stormlands was tenuous after the deaths of their former lord and lady.

The other option was the one she preferred, but it was not without it’s own problems, she would not deny that fact.

They could allow Dorne to go free. It would keep a war from dividing the realm and allow Rhaegar to begin his reign in peace.

Of course, it would also make some question whether he was weak or not. She had no illusions about what the alliance between the Starks, Tullys, Arryns, and likely the Baratheons was supposed to accomplish. The Stormlands had already once attempted to claim independence in living memory after Duncan’s jilting of Lady Joycelyn, and only her beloved Aunt Rhaelle being sent as a hostage in all but name to marry Uncle Ormond averted it. The North also had a somewhat worrying amount of unofficial freedom based around the fact that no one but the Starks knew what to do with it. Winter was Coming, as promised by the Stark words, but that could be both a blessing and a curse for their side.

Rhaella sighed, closing her eyes for a brief moment before asking, “Have you thought of anything we could do to pacify Dorne? They have no need for trade, we only have one person that could possibly be considered a hostage and he is the shining example of that man’s insanity, and gambling with children once more may not be possible, as there is only one trueborn daughter to the Martells and Rhaegar has not married yet.”

While she did not doubt that Loreza had legitimized her other granddaughters by now, their lords would certainly object to someone of bastard birth becoming Queen. Prince Doran only had one daughter, and no one could know if he would have any more. The Dornish would not give up their heir to King’s Landing again, especially with their more fortuitous position this time around.

Sending Viserys to marry Princess Arianne was not an option either. She had no wish to see her youngest son, the one who’s birth had finally restored some of her hope for a different life, go so far away, nor would Dorne accept their future consort to be yet another Targaryen. They had apparently barely accepted it the first time around and it had taken years for Daenerys Martell to be considered one of their own if the tales she had heard from Loreza, said princess’ great-granddaughter, were to be believed.

Tywin nodded. “The King does need to be betrothed as soon as possible, and your recommendation would be the one he would most likely deign to listen to.”

That was worrying. Rhaella herself was disappointed in her son, but Tywin himself being the same…

That aside, she knew what he wanted from her, and as she was tired of waiting, she replied, “If you are asking me to suggest the Lady Cersei as my gooddaughter and the Queen Consort, I ask you this: do you believe that the realm could wait at least another year, possibly two, for a royal marriage?”

Before he could answer, she sighed and leaned back. “Your daughter is barely fourteen. I do not wish for any woman to have the same fate I did after being forced to marry so young. I was far too young to bear a child, and while the man who forced his seed upon me did not help me bring a living child to term, I know that giving birth so early was the underlying cause.” She sighed again, and said in a softer voice, “I have no wish for Joanna’s daughter to go through the same pain as I did.”

Many said that Tywin was a cold, unfeeling, metaphorical bastard. They would be right. But she had never once doubted that he did deeply love Joanna, and his grief at her death was far greater than her own, and she greatly grieved the fact that she had not seen her friend in the years before her death.

(She also laid no small amount of blame towards Aerys. Perhaps Joanna would have still stayed primarily in Casterly Rock, but she would have been able to visit more had that despicable man not thought to claim things that were never and should never have been his. She despised the fact that even with him dead she still felt a flash of fear when she heard footsteps come to her door and kept looking over her shoulders when she went outside, but she was glad that Joanna at least had been spared that fate.)

If it were possible, the Lord of Casterly Rock’s eyes softened the tiniest fraction as he nodded. “Given the situation we find ourselves in, it may be prudent to wait until we see what the new King wishes to do.”

Rhaella let out a breath at that and nodded in agreeance. Finding out what kind of king Rhaegar wished to be would be their first goal, for she doubted that Tywin, as power hungry as he was, would wish to give his daughter to a man unfortunately like the one he despised more than anyone else that had existed.

And while she did not believe that Rhaegar was as mad as the most recent Aerys was, for even when they were children he had shown signs of something dark that her son has not as of yet, there was also the question of whether he would turn out like his own great-great uncle.

King Aerys I had not been a terrible ruler, that much she would admit. But that was not through his own efforts, for he had spent all of his time reading tomes instead of ruling, which he left for his Hand to deal with.

Rhaella wished that she had more hope that her son would not turn out to be much the same.

She mentally shook her head and pushed that subject to the side. She had already worried enough on the subject and knew she would continue to in the next moons. With that in mind, she completely changed the subject and asked, “The Goldcloaks need to be reformed. The men in charge are the worst of the lot, but the rank and file are also corrupt. I am not sure whether it would be feasible to completely gut the whole group at this time, but they are desperately in need of new leadership…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get no indication of when Betha Blackwood died, only that it was before or during Summerhall. I will say this: I don't think she ever actually stopped loving her family, but there came a point where she could barely look at any of them. I actually want to write a one shot about her and Rhaelle discussing this. (I actually want to write a whole about a lot of women that don't really get any voice in canon, or when they do it's from very biased men... and a one shot Mors Martell, who let's face it, is extremely overshadowed by his wife.)
> 
> From the start of planning this, I had always planned for Aerys to die on the throne because of the parallels with Maegor the Cruel. And yes, according to the wiki, they did spread rumors that Queen Elinor was the one to do it, though I didn't find this out until after I planned for Rhaella to be the one to instigate it. (I also found out that Maegor ruled for 6 years and 66 days which... really GRRM? Really?)
> 
> For what it's worth: Rhaella and Tywin don't necessarily like each other. However, they do both respect the other, and both share the same grief that comes from having known Joanna and Aerys before he went mad. They're also willing to work with each other to keep things from falling apart.
> 
> Fun fact: in the first draft of this chapter, I actually had Rhaella flat out refuse Cersei because of her age. However, after thinking and talking a bit about her in comments, I started wondering what it would be like if Cersei became queen with people around that would actually support her, like Rhaella would try. It might not happen though, this particular fic would end before we get to the point of Rhaegar marrying and it would be saved for a shorter sequel, but I decided to leave the possibility open just in case.
> 
> Yep, there was an Aerys I, the older brother of Maekar, who was pretty much how Rhaegar looks like he'd be as king without someone managing to smack sense into him.
> 
> Next chapter: Ellaria and getting used to things.


	19. Part of the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small glimpse at Ellaria's first week as Oberyn's betrothed

**Sunspear**

Hilariously enough, Ellaria’s first argument with Oberyn was extremely petty and came when she was moving some of her things into his- _their_ rooms and they found that they had different ideas of how to sort books on a shelf.

It was not a true argument, rather they were simply too stubborn to just pick one way and discuss it later when the rest of her things arrived (which would more than likely be once all of the festivities were over and they could take a trip to the Hellholt, though as she had taken her most important possessions with her when she had left it was not pressing) and dragged it on longer than it should have.

Of course, it still alarmed both Tyene and Arianne, both of whom had wandered into the room and were staring in awe at some of her jewelry, and the two toddlers started crying and begging them to stop. That was quite the conflict killer, and the argument had been put on hold until the two kids were calmed down.

Thankfully, children so young had very short attention spans, and they were quickly distracted by letting them try on her jewelry and soon were giggling at how easily her bangles and other bracelets fell off of their tiny wrists. Soon, they wandered off because Arianne wanted to go demand her father to get her bangles of her own for the celebrations and Tyene followed her as was their want.

When they left, Oberyn snorted, shook his head, threw himself onto one of the large piles of pillows he had, and stated, “Those two are closer than Nym hugging someone at her clingiest.”

Ellaria laughed in return, silently taking the chance to rearrange some of the books on the shelves. Surely he couldn’t object to her sorting them by language at the very least. “I believe you are exaggerating. Nym will not let go without massive amounts of whining, while both Arianne and Tyene will at least spend time alone without much complaint.”

“No, I’m not. The first time they met, I put Tyene in Arianne’s cradle and Ari immediately started cuddling her and they’ve barely been apart for more than a couple of hours since. As it made Arianne stop crying without her parents or abuela having to hold her, I don’t think any of us regrets it. Yet.”

She laughed again before replacing one final book on the shelf and walking over to sit next to him, his arm immediately sneaking it’s way around her shoulders to play with one of her curls. If you asked her, Nym got her love of cuddles from her father. While he wasn’t anywhere near as extreme, she had picked up on the fact that he seemed to always be touching her in some way when they were near, usually by taking her hand or arm, not to mention the fact that he always without fail wrapped his arms around her while they were sleeping. Not that she minded at all; she had quickly found herself doing the same the few times he hadn’t initiated any contact.

Perhaps it was because it had only been a few days and they hadn’t announced their betrothal outside of their families yet, but things had not really changed from how they were when they had first taken up with each other as of yet.

When they had told Princess Loreza, she had smiled at them and embraced her, calling her daughter and expressing how happy she was that she would join their family. Ellaria would admit to having to screw her eyes shut to keep from tearing up, for it reminded her so much of her own mother, who she missed even over a decade later. The woman’s genuine joy at her becoming her gooddaughter was something she hadn’t dared to expect, but she appreciated all the same.

Elia had also shown joy at the prospect, immediately barging in and hugging her when Nym spilled the beans to her, insisting that she tell her if she needed anything at all to ask her as she would be more than pleased to help.

Doran meanwhile had looked at her, patted her on the shoulder, and wished her luck in dealing with Oberyn and his daughters on a daily basis.

Mellario… that had been more of a challenge.

It was not that they didn’t get along, not at all. No, the problem was that they did not have all that much in common when it came down to it.

The future Princess Consort had invited her to tea the day after they had announced it to their families, and conversation had not been very forthcoming.

For a brief moment they had seemed to make a breakthrough when they discovered they both liked to read, but that had quickly proven to be a dead end. Ellaria preferred to read histories and other such texts smattering of explicit poetry- something she had in common with Oberyn- while Mellario preferred fictions and ballads. Hilariously, that was something that she shared with _Doran,_ of all people, and they had spent a few minutes laughing at how unlikely that seemed simply by looking at him.

Thankfully, conversation between the two of them flowed better once someone else came in, as proven when Arianne (and she was starting to believe Oberyn had a point when he wondered how these one-year-olds got all this energy because it was more and more inexplicable the more she interacted with them) barged in and asked her mother when her new dresses would be done because she wanted to look pretty when her new uncle arrived.

Ellaria definitely agreed that Arianne would grow up to be a very willful adult, something that would more than likely be to her advantage as she would one day be Dorne’s ruler but would definitely give her father recurring headaches. That interruption had led to the two of them talking about the children, something that they both had quite a bit to talk about.

Mellario had asked if she was planning to have one of her own anytime soon, but she had said no. That had something she had discussed with Oberyn, and while both of them admitted that they wanted to give the sand snakes a little sister, they both agreed that it might be best to wait for a few moons. If only not to let people think they only married because she got pregnant…

Her soon to be goodsister had nodded at that logic and admitted that she herself wished to have more time between Arianne and any other children she bore. She had said that she would be more than willing to give her advice when that time comes if she would like, something that she would gladly take her up on.

Ellaria’s own family had entertaining reactions to the news as well. She had wondered what her father’s reaction would be, for it could have been a great many things. The Ullers were infamous for a reason.

When they had gone to tell them, Harmen Uller, Lord of the Hellholt, had actually started crying and embraced Oberyn, saying how glad he was that his beloved daughter had found someone she wanted to spend her life with.

Oberyn had later stated that he wished her father had just threatened him because it would have been less terrifying. Both Ellaria and Ulwyck had laughed at him.

Her uncle had taken over on the threatening part since her father was crying over his baby girl finally growing up, and they had wound up in the training grounds because that’s apparently what men did, as upon hearing of it Elia had rolled her eyes and related the fact that Doran apparently had plans to test his own mettle against Elia’s own betrothed when they finally arrived despite the fact that he was the sultan of an entire empire.

Ellaria wasn’t about to complain though. Little as she enjoyed bloodshed, she had to admit that there was something about watching her lover spar in a match that was for nothing but simple enjoyment that she very much appreciated, and when they had retired to their rooms after that she had shown that fact off in a very enjoyable way for the both of them.

Sometimes she regretted her decision to continue to use contraceptive teas, but it was probably best not to add another member to their family quite yet along with not wanting people to assume they married because she got pregnant. No, she would rather get to know the three children they already had before giving them a sibling.

The only question was when they would make things official and marry.

It was not negotiations regarding her dowry or bride price that made that a question, as those had gone smoothly. Her father had actually sorted out what he thought should be her dowry long ago when she had first come to the Hellholt, and there was not all that much negotiation needed to adjust his plans. (Much to the relief of her soon to be goodmother, for she already had quite a bit to sort through as it was.)

Outfits were not an issue either. Lady Sylvia had shown up with a couple of assistants only one day after announcing it to the family, kicked Oberyn out of his own rooms, and immediately set out measuring her for a new wardrobe, including an outfit planned for her wedding that they let her choose the design of with the help of Nym, Tyene, and Arianne, all three of whom had wandered in while this was going on and as they were female were thus allowed to stay. (Obara had immediately turned around and left after dropping off her sisters and cousins. Not only did she not care for dresses, she also apparently hadn’t forgiven Sylvia for the last time they had done this to her.)

No, the question was figuring out when to have the ceremony.

Considering the position Oberyn held, they couldn’t just go up to someone and marry quietly. No, they had to make a production of it.

There were two problems with it. The first was that Dorne’s nobility would already be in Sunspear moons longer than originally planned. They would not be happy with coming back just after they returned to their homes for another wedding, and with all of the celebrations that would soon be starting she was not sure whether or not it was feasible to add yet another one.

The other issue was the fact that they all knew that Elia wished to be there. They would have to wait well over a year if they did not perform it before she left, something they could not do given the circumstances, and she knew that Oberyn wanted his sister there just as much as said sister herself did.

The solution came only a sennight after they had been betrothed, the day before they would announce it to the rest of the country with a feast. Princess Loreza had sent her poor eldest son to get them after she had realized how to solve it.

And of course, said eldest son walked into the room to find the both of them kissing very passionately with hands up each other’s clothes as a celebration of having moved all of her things into their rooms.

Ellaria would feel worse for him had he not just barged in without so much as a knock. In her opinion, he had it coming.

Either way, Doran gave the message and left while muttering that they were both hedonists and he wished Elia would take them with her when they left. Oberyn had shouted at him that it wasn’t his fault he wanted to have sex with his lover in their own rooms and that he didn’t judge him and Mellario.

Unfortunately, the interruption had ruined the mood, and so while plotting on how to gain revenge on Doran they readjusted their clothes and headed over to Princess Loreza’s private solar. By the time they got there, they had several ideas that did not involve Mellario, for it was not her fault she married someone who thought walking into Oberyn Nymeros Martell’s rooms without knocking was a good idea.

Princess Loreza gave them both a gentle smile when they walked in, something that made Ellaria’s heart warm. She had heard of their Princess’ character before and knew that she was well loved by her people for a reason, but she had never met her before coming to Sunspear, and certainly hadn’t expected her to so warmly invite her into her family.

She also appreciated the fact that the Princess- Loreza, she had told her to drop the titles, as odd as it was to refer to her as something other than Princess- did not spend much time on the pleasant nothings that so many nobles loved. She would admit that avoiding those was a _very_ minor reason why she had insisted the Hellholt go to Ulwyck before her or her daughters… though unfortunately her choices in partners meant that attempt had been in vain.

What to do about titles hadn’t been anywhere near as exhausting a conversation as she had assumed. As she had deferred her claim to one of her children and would only take up position as Lady Uller if they had not reached the age of majority before Ulwyck passed, something unlikely to happen given how close they were in age, she was free to be called Princess once they married. (Which was not something she had thought she would ever be called and would take awhile to get used to…)

Her children had been a slightly more difficult topic, as all of the children of a Ruling Princess could pass on the title of prince or princess to their children provided they did not marry out, but calling the person that would have lordship over the Hellholt by that title would set an absolutely terrible precedent. The solution had been for them to allow her children to bear the title of prince or princess, but the one that went on to inherit the Hellholt would have to give up said title.

Pri- _Loreza_ gestured for them to sit down, and as soon as they did she continued to smile and said, “I believe I have found a solution for the issue of when your wedding will take place, if you both agree to it.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. My cousin Sarita sent me a letter this morning. She and some of her family have already left the Greenblood for Sunspear ahead of most of the other Orphans, as she wishes to see her niece’s wedding.”

Ellaria couldn’t miss how much Oberyn brightened at that, as he had mentioned before that he was looking forward to seeing his aunt and cousins.

Okay, this Sarita wasn’t _technically_ Oberyn’s aunt, but that was what their relationship was closest to. They were related through Princess Reza, the woman who married Prince Garris, son and heir of Prince Maron and Princess Daenerys. Said prince marrying an Orphan of the Greenblood had caused quite a stir… above the Red Mountains. The Dornish had all more or less approved of the marriage, for it had shown that despite his mother Prince Garris had truly been as Dornish as he looked and had not forgotten his Rhoynish ancestors.

Princess Reza had kept in touch with her family and introduced her children to their cousins by her younger siblings, something that had continued on to the current generation. Oberyn had told her of his fond memories of visiting his cousins on the Greenblood as a child, something she swore to herself would continue for all of their children. She had longed for a large family as a child and hoped her children would never feel the same way.

“They should be here either before the Moraqi party or shortly after, but that is not what I wish to mention,” Loreza continued. “She pointed out that the final day of the millennium celebrations will be on the exact date that Princess Nymeria wed Mors Martell and made it clear that the Rhoynar had found a new home. The morning is already planned to have a large ceremony to honor Mother Rhoyne, and she pointed out that it would not be difficult at all to include a Rhoynish marriage ceremony during it. In fact, she pointed out that it would even look very good to our people, and I do not believe either of you are very attached to marrying in the Sept.”

That was true. Ellaria herself had not exactly grown up with the Seven, preferring to quietly revere the Lyseni love goddess, and she knew that Oberyn came closest to following Mother Rhoyne herself out of any other gods, though it was still a more distant worship than many would expect.

But… “You’re willing to let us get married in the midst of the biggest celebrations Dorne has witnessed in centuries?” she asked incredulously, quickly glancing at her lover to find he was as surprised as her.

Loreza quickly glanced up at the ceiling as if asking the gods for patience. “I cannot think of a better time. In fact, as I know several people that would leap at the chance, I am unsure as to why neither of you are.”

Ellaria did not mind having another mother figure in her life… but she had also forgotten just what it was like at times. She was nearly twenty-one and yet she felt years younger at times like these.

She and Oberyn looked at each other before slowly nodding at each other. He sighed and said, “If you believe it would be a good idea.”

“Do you wish to have a giant ceremony in the Sept?”

“…No.”

“Then yes, I do believe it is as it solves all of our issues in one swoop.”

Ellaria had to admit that she appreciated just how blunt Loreza was with her family and close friends. It was very refreshing.

That done, Loreza practically kicked her own son out of the room as she wished to talk to her alone over tea, which he complained about but eventually did while muttering how he needed to pick something up in the Shadow City anyway.

A servant came in not long after, setting some tea and cakes on a table before leaving. Loreza poured herself a cup, admitting, “I am not sure what kind of tea you prefer, but I have found myself partial to this particular blend from Moraq. Oberyn sent it to me as a gift only a couple of moons after he ended up there, and I made certain to use my authority to get it from trade for a Princess is allowed the occasional indulgence.”

Ellaria chuckled at that, taking a cup of her own while admitting, “I have never been that partial to tea myself. I tend to prefer different fruit beverages or wine, though this is a good blend.”

“I am glad you like it.”

They sat in companionable silence for a little while before Loreza asked, “Are you settling in well? I realize that this is not the ideal time to be joining our family to say the very least.”

Perhaps it was not, and she was trying not to think about one possible future, but it was not any true issue. She would rather a short time of happiness than never having any. “No, everyone has been very kind and helpful.”

“I am glad,” Loreza smiled, eyes looking at her with motherly affection. “Tyene especially has been enthusiastically talking about how happy she is that she now has a new mama.”

Ellaria couldn’t stop a soft smile from crossing her face. “She has?” she asked.

“Yes. She wouldn’t stop talking about how happy she is that you’re staying the other night when I had dinner with all of them. Her sisters and cousin were also happy.”

Ellaria hadn’t ever thought that even one of them would call her any variation of mother, but Tyene had insistently called her mama from the very moment she had learned she would stay. Her heart warmed every single time she heard that term, and the little toddler insistently followed her around like an adorable little duckling much of the time.

Tyene’s older sisters hadn’t started calling her any variations of that, and she wouldn’t expect it from either of them. Both of them were older after all, and Obara at least remembered her mother, as little good as that was. (After they had told their families, Oberyn had pulled her aside and told her exactly where he and Elia had found his eldest. Ellaria’s heart had broke upon hearing how Obara had spent the first four years of her life in an Oldtown brothel, knowing that she was likely to be forced into that same position as soon as she flowered with only a bitter and complicated mother to give her any sort of company. It was no wonder why she had watched her so closely the first fortnight she had spent with them and was so protective of her sisters.)

Whatever they called her, whether it was Ellaria, Larie, mama, or anything else, she didn’t care, for she already loved them as much as if they had been born from her own womb.

When she said that to Loreza, she had simply smiled at her and told her that she was glad she was there.

Much later, after they had been joined by both Elia and Mellario and had a very pleasant afternoon talking about simple things, Ellaria returned to her rooms to find Oberyn checking a package with a pleased expression. “What did you get?” she asked, walking over to him.

Her lover looked up at her with a smile, though she did notice he did look slightly nervous for whatever reason. “Ah, my beautiful flower that outshines any other!”

“Except for the girls, I assume,” she replied dryly, leaning against him as she craned her head to try and see what he had brought to no avail as he had closed the small box too fast.

“Of course.” Oberyn hesitated a moment before stepping away from her and presenting her with the box with an exaggerated bow as he said, “I commissioned this gift for you in hopes that it helps show even a fraction of how radiant you are.”

Laughing at his antics, Ellaria opened the box, a gasp escaping her lips when she saw what it was.

It was a necklace, but not just any simple necklace, oh no. No, this one was made up of gold and rubies cunningly arranged to look exactly like flames, a matching pair of earrings included with said necklace. “Oberyn…” she whispered, looking up at her love, not able to find any words to describe what she felt.

“I know you have a lot of jewelry already,” he said, eyes darting away in nervousness, “but I wanted to get you something to celebrate our betrothal, and-“

Ellaria wasn’t sure where he was going with that, but she didn’t care. After carefully placing the necklace on the closest table, she grabbed her lover by his collar and decided to show how much she appreciated his gift with wonderful actions that took up the rest of the night.

She wore her new necklace and earrings the next night at the feast to announce their betrothal as it fit perfectly with the dress she had chosen to wear. Walking into the room after having been announced to some very shocked looks from the gathered nobility, arm locked with Oberyn’s and Obara and Nym trailing behind them, she wouldn’t bother to deny that it gave her quite a bit of pleasure, as little as she had expected to live this kind of life as a child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another summary for this fic could be "In which Loreza collects all of the daughters and granddaughters she could want."
> 
> Again, it's not that Ellaria and Mellario dislike each other or don't get along, it's just that when it comes down to it they don't have all that much in common. Which didn't really help her keep from feeling alienated in canon.  
> (By the way, because I don't have enough ideas already, I thought of one where Mellario finds out about Doran's plotting before he ever sends Oberyn to talk to Darry and things end up changing a lot. Look, I am just a sucker for happy Doran/Mellario and canon divergent Dorne stuff, okay???)
> 
> Yes, Doran secretly enjoys romance novels and ballads. Both Elia and Oberyn know this and will hold it over his head if they ever need something from him.
> 
> On the titles of Prince/ss: Let's look at, say, Nym. As Oberyn is the son of the current Ruling Princess, Nym gets to be called a princess. However, she cannot pass on the title to any children she has, and if they stay in Sunspear and form a new cadet branch they would be styled as Lord or Lady Martell. The only way that would change would be if one of the sand snakes married Quentyn or Trystane, which will not happen.
> 
> Prince Maron Martell's oldest son married an Orphan of the Greenblood? Yep, this is my headcanon. Prince Garris (named after one of his ancestors from Ny Sar) grew up knowing that Dorne wasn't necessarily happy about who their Prince married (though they did come to accept Daenerys as one of their own eventually), and he chose to take a calculated step to show that he was Dornish first and foremost.
> 
> Also yes, Loreza was named in honor of her grandmother as you probably assumed.
> 
> Not going to lie, having Ellaria and Oberyn marry in a Rhoynish ceremony is 100% because I want to have some sort of variety in this fic since Elia and Mehmed will be marrying in the Sept. Also neither of them actually really worship the Seven at all as we have established.
> 
> Oberyn had to get Ellaria some kind of gift, even if it can't be technically called a courting gift because there was technically no courting period.
> 
> Next chapter: The Moraqi party FINALLY gets to Dorne.  
> (Seriously I did not think it would be 20 chapters in. This fic is going to be way longer than I expected...)


	20. Eastern Royalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The royalty from Great Moraq finally arrives. Loreza manages to be impressed by them.

**Sunspear**

Loreza longed for everything to calm down and return to (relative) normalcy, but at the same time she did not.

Oh it was not as if she enjoyed all of the meetings she had to go through, all of the paperwork that kept her up far later than she wished, all of the time she spent planning in case the worst happened, but when all was said and done she would lose her own beloved daughter.

She had always known this day would come, that Elia would not be able to stay in Sunspear for her whole life no matter how much she wished for it, but she could still remember vividly the day that her daughter had taken her first faltering steps across their family solar, all because she wanted to feel her baby brother kick. Her bright, happy, mischievous little girl, the daughter she had longed to hold in her arms for years, the little girl that she would admit that, along with her youngest son, she had probably spoiled quite a bit, but had turned out to be a wonderful woman regardless.

At least she knew that Elia would be taken care of in Great Moraq, as little as she had thought her only daughter would end up so far away. (Though as Elia herself had pointed out when the subject first came up, at least this distance would only be a physical one.) Loreza had quietly sent people to see how the royal family of Moraq was seen, and their findings had pleased her.

Not only that, but she had set up a correspondence with Sultana Mara. Seeing a woman so respected, enough to seemingly freely speak her mind and whom her own son greatly respected and considered one of his greatest advisors, had relieved many of her own concerns for her daughter. She personally disliked the fact that only men could claim Great Moraq’s throne as she had grown up with Rhoynish values, but at least she knew that her daughter would still be respected and her granddaughters would still have many different paths to choose from, which was already far better than most other places.

(It also didn’t hurt that the first time she had mentioned that she was corresponding with Lady Mara over a private family dinner, Oberyn had stared at her with mostly faked despair in his eyes before taking a long sip of his drink in mourning of the status quo of the world, for it would surly change now that the two of them were in contact.

Doran had looked like he very much agreed and didn’t know whether to worry about that fact or not, finally settling for making a mock toast in remembrance of the world with his younger brother. Elia and Mellario both had thought it was about time someone changed it and laughed at their brothers and husband, while Loreza had rolled her eyes at her sons’ antics, knowing neither of them were actually the slightest bit upset about it. They were both Dornish to their very bones, and neither thought women to be lesser than men. Neither she nor any of their female relatives would have ever allowed them to.)

So no, she was not too worried about her daughter’s future. It was simply that in her heart she did not wish for her daughter to leave her yet, no matter how well she knew Elia would thrive in her new role. Her protests to sending her daughter to King’s Landing even before all these events had not been rooted in the belief that she would be anything but a wonderful queen, after all.

The Moraqi party had actually arrived on the very day they had said they would, which Mellario no doubt appreciated as the feast she had prepared could take place just as planned.

Loreza had chosen to send Oberyn to the ports to great them and bring them to the throne room, both because he was the one to have started all of this and because she may as well let him and Ellaria continue to enjoy everyone’s shock that they would be married soon. Somehow it had escalated to the point that all three of the sand snakes were going with them to the port, but by some miracle they had managed to get everyone ready and out of the palace in enough time to meet them so she would not say anything against it, though she did wonder how that miracle had happened.

Elia had been practically locked into her rooms by Myria and the other ladies who would be going with her, all of whom were no doubt taking great pleasure in making certain that she would be as beautiful as possible for when she first meets her betrothed. She wished she were there with them, but as Doran and Mellario had taken the morning to themselves she had somehow managed to be the lucky one that had to entertain and ready Arianne.

It was not as much of a bother as it would usually be. Arianne was a very willful child even at only a year old, yes, but she was also easily distracted by pretty things, and her new dress and adorable little bangles her father had got for her to wear today was just that. Not only that, but Sarita had arrived two days before and her granddaughter was enamored by her “Tía Sari” and was happy enough to have her fuss over her, meaning that they were able to get her dressed without too much issue.

Sarita laughed as she watched Arianne show off her new jewelry to Anandi, one of her cousins closer to her age. “I wish that this was not the first occasion I am meeting her,” she said after a moment in Rhoynish, knowing that Arianne did not have a great grasp of that language quite yet.

“Lilia was only a fortnight away from giving birth during her presentation,” Loreza replied in the same language, carefully moving her hair so her handmaid Ritu could clasp her necklace around her neck. “She needed her mother there with her, especially given how difficult her pregnancy had been.”

Her dear cousin sighed at that. “Yes, but it has been a year since then, and not once have I come up from the Greenblood, not like I did after your own children’s births.”

Loreza sighed, reaching out and taking her cousin’s hands. “Sari, we both bear positions that keep us from seeing each other as much as we would like. I as a ruling princess, and you as one of the leaders of the Orphans of the Greenblood. I have never once held that against you. Your letters are enough for me.”

Sarita gave a sad smile at that. “I do not hold it against you either. But it does not stop either of us from wishing otherwise.”

“No. It does not.”

Before the conversation could continue, they were interrupted by Arianne toddling up to them and tugging on both of their skirts. “Abuela, want Tía Sari to teach Rhoynish. Wanna understand!” she practically demanded, looking up at them with as haughty a look as such a young toddler could muster.

They all laughed at that, Sarita agreeing to help teach her and her cousins while she was here before nudging a still chuckling Ritu away to place the crown on herself.

Loreza would admit to having cried a little when she saw her new crown for the first time. It was beautiful, based on Princess Nymeria’s own crown, but instead of being made up of simple golden suns, it was made up of several interlocked suns, the rays of the sun made of gold while their cores were rubies pierced with golden spears, representing their own sigil, with small amber gems filling some of the blank spaces between the suns.

The crown’s beauty was not what had made her cry. It was the fact that all three of her children had commissioned it for her the very day after they had declared independence, and all three had presented it to her the moment they had learned it was done but three days ago, saying that someone who had done so much for Dorne deserved to have something that would signify it.

Her children had been a source of frustration at times, yes, but more than that they were the source of her greatest joys in life.

Sarita smiled at her as she stood, brushing off some nonexistent dust off of the blazing orange Rhoynish gown she wore for her. Her cousin adjusted the fabric thrown over her shoulder, saying, “You look as beautiful as Princess Nymeria herself must have, and are just as suited to rule as she was.”

Loreza gave her a soft smile, taking her cousin’s hands and squeezing them, knowing how much that compliment meant coming from her.

The Orphans of the Greenblood still mourned having been separated from Mother Rhoyne, yes, but they did still look fondly upon Princess Nymeria for having done everything she could to lead them from the slavery that had awaited them if the Valyrians had captured them, and for having allowed them to live along the Greenblood as they had wished. It was not quite to the reverence that others in Dorne held towards their most famous ancestor, but getting a compliment favorably comparing her to Nymeria was something she treasured.

Of course, Arianne wouldn’t let herself be forgotten and so she ran forward and grabbed onto her leg, looking up and beaming at her. “Abuela pretty!”

Loreza smiled at her granddaughter, placing a hand on her head. “Not as pretty as you are, Ari,” she said.

Arianne shook her head. “No. You prettier!” she suddenly frowned, looking sad. “I won’ be as pretty.”

“You will be prettier, I know that,” she replied, lifting her granddaughter’s chin to look her in the eyes. “I feel you shall take after your own mama in build, and do you think she isn’t pretty?”

Arianne shook her head, looking slightly happier and reassured at that assurance.

After that, all of the women left to go to the throne room. Sarita and her own granddaughter left to go stand with her husband while Loreza went to sit on the throne, returning Arianne to her parents as she did. Her eldest son gave a small smile when his daughter tugged on his pants and lifted her into his arms when she silently asked.

Elia entered the room flanked by Myria and Ashara, both of whom went to stand with their families while her daughter walked up to the dais to stand on her right. Loreza smiled at her daughter, reaching out and taking her hand and taking in her daughter’s beauty.

Everyone always said how much Elia resembled her, and she would agree with that statement with the caveat that her daughter was more beautiful than she had ever been. Her daughter shone like the sun on their banners, with her traditional dress, cut the same as Loreza’s own but instead red with orange suns trimming the hems, the same golden tiara that had started it all crowning her brow, a necklace made up of amber gems around her neck and golden bracelets in the shape of snakes on her arms, gifts from both of her brothers for her last nameday. The knife that she had received with the tiara was also sheathed at her side, though it was mostly hidden by the fabric she wore.

Elia carried herself as only a daughter of the sun, a daughter of Mother Rhoyne could, but Loreza was her mother and could see the uncertainty in her eyes no matter how well she hid it. To reassure her daughter as best as she could in such a public place, she squeezed her hand and smiled softly at her. It seemed to have worked well enough, for her daughter’s eyes softened and she squeezed back before letting go and looking ahead when the doors opened

Oberyn came in first, a smirk on his face that Ellaria striding next to him mirrored. They must have gotten the appropriate levels of surprise they had wished for. The sand snakes were with them, Tyene currently being carried by Obara while Nym held onto one of her father’s hands. All of them took up position next to Elia. Perhaps it was unusual for Ellaria to be there as they had not signed the documents officially marrying them, but she did not care. As far as she was concerned, Ellaria had been her gooddaughter from the moment they agreed to marry.

Once they were in position, she gestured for Ricasso to announce their guests.

“His Imperial Highness, Sultan Mehmed Han of Great Moraq, along with his mother, Her Imperial Highness, Sultana Mara Han!”

As first impressions went, these foreign royals made a very good one.

Mehmed Han looked like the Sultan he was, that no one could deny, though Loreza noticed the way he carried himself first and foremost. It was the same way she had seen Maron and still saw Lewyn carry themselves- that of a warrior. She would have wondered had he not if she were honest, given some of the things she had heard of him, of how he had personally led armies to victory in battle.

That was not all he was however. As they came closer to the dais, she noticed the calculating look in his eyes, the same kind she saw in her Doran’s own at times. That boded well in her opinion.

As for appearances… well, she would have beautiful grandchildren from her daughter, that she was assured of. (That was not to imply that she would be at all disappointed if they were nothing to look at- they would be her grandchildren, and provided they did nothing untoward she would love them regardless.) Elia definitely did not look displeased from what she could see out of the corner of her eye for sure.

As for Sultana Mara… Loreza would admit if only to herself that she was slightly jealous of her. They could not be far apart in age, but Lady Mara’s hair was still completely black, while her own was very streaked with gray. Perhaps the sultana’s children were nowhere near as exasperating as her own were at times and spared her that particular brand of frustration…

That aside, the Princess of Dorne was also impressed by Lady Mara. She stood, spine unbent, walking near in step with her son. Yes, her husband was still co-sultans with their son, but the fact that she was still shown with such respect that she could see it with her own eyes- that relieved some of the lingering fears she felt for her daughter.

Of course, Loreza had long since perfected the art of not letting any emotions she did not wish to show on her face, and instead she gave a warm but still formal smile to the two and their guards she could see behind them. “We welcome you to Dorne, Sultan Mehmed and Sultana Mara. After all of these years, I am pleased to finally put faces to the names of our allies in the East.”

Sultan Mehmed inclined his head at her, replying with a slightly accented voice, “We share the same sentiment, Princess Loreza. Great Moraq is also pleased to find that our allied nation is as stunning as we have heard and more.”

Once those words were finished, it was time for the true test. Loreza rose from her throne in a movement that she had practiced for years and walked down the steps of the dais, extending her hands to the ruler of Great Moraq in the traditional Rhoynish greeting between two different rulers.

It was said that one of the things that had led to Princess Nymeria allying with the then Lord Mors Martell had been his willingness to take her hands when they had first met. Even with having only given greetings to each other before that moment, it had shown to her and all of the Rhoynar that had witnessed it that he would respect their customs, and thus they were more willing to ally with him.

On the other hand, it was said that none of the Targaryens had been willing to do that. When Rhaenys Targaryen had come to Sunspear to demand Princess Meria bend the knee to her brother-husband, it was said that she gave no respect to the position they held. None of her descendants had ever done differently, not even Daeron the Good, he who was otherwise respected with very few reservations in Dorne, the only Targaryen ruler to have achieved that… and likely the only one that ever would at this point.

In a move that both relieved and impressed her, Sultan Mehmed proved to be much more like Prince Mors had been and with only a slight hesitation took her hands to cheers from the assembled nobility.

Loreza made very little effort to hide her pleased smile. Yes, this decision had been a very good one.

* * *

The following feast had proven to be just as much a success as the introductions had been.

Mellario (with no doubt as much help as Elia could give her) had outdone herself with the feast. Most of the food provided was Dornish, but there were several Moraqi dishes that they could make with what they had here, something it seemed that they appreciated.

Their visitors thus far seemed to actually be what she had heard of them, much to her relief. At the very least, they had managed to get her people to have a much better opinion of them than that damned to the Seven Hells dragon had. It did not at all hurt that they actually seemed to be appreciative of Dornish culture rather than just give out backhanded “compliments” that showed how clearly they disdained them.

(Loreza would admit that she should probably let go of her anger towards some of those damned northerners. She just could not stand anyone looking down at her country just because they had different customs, and if she had not already disliked the late Targaryen king before, what he had said when he had visited Sunspear would have done it.

…It occurred to her that this was partially where her youngest son got it from. Dear sweet Mother why must that have been one of the things he had picked up on…)

Of course, that was in public. Loreza wished to see how they acted in private, for she was no fool. As she knew that Doran wished to take the measure of his soon to be goodbrother through a sparring match and that she would have more than enough time to do that himself with all of the meetings they would no doubt have to go through, she instead sent a message to Sultana Mara, asking if she would like to have tea with her in her private solar this morning.

The woman had accepted, and only an hour later Loreza was standing and nodding her head at her in greeting as a sign of respect. “Sultana Mara.”

Lady Mara laughed, inclining her own head at her. “Princess Loreza, please call me either Mara or Lady Mara. I much prefer either of those in private, and we shall soon be family once our children marry.”

“Only if you call me Loreza,” she replied with a smile. “Please, take a seat. I have found myself partial to Moraqi teas, but I asked for several different blends regardless.”

They spent a few minutes in companionable silence as they gathered the teas they wished to drink. Loreza was about to break the silence and ask about Moraq for she was genuinely curious, but her companion was faster.

“I was pleasantly surprised by Sunspear,” Lady Mara said, sipping at her tea. “I do not mean that as an insult, not at all. No, I had simply heard some of our merchants say that it was nothing compared to our own cities, though considering they were talking to me or some of my known ladies or relatives they may have just been currying favor.”

Loreza didn’t bother to hide her snort at that. “Ah, the merchant class. Always trying to get the best deals to help line their pockets, especially from rulers.”

Lady Mara laughed. “Some things are universal, it would seem.”

“And of course that would be one of them, as much as we would wish otherwise. But I thank you for your words for my home. We do not have many cities here, our population is much more spread out than others especially in recent centuries, but everyone has done their best to make Sunspear one for us to be proud of… if only in an attempt to hide how ugly the Sandship is.”

That got a very undignified snort from her guest. “It is not as bad as you think.”

“No, it is,” Loreza said dryly, taking a long sip of her tea. “Generations of Martells have tried to figure out some way to make it look better, but we have always been thwarted one way or another. The towers are the only additions that have truly panned out. “

Lady Mara chuckled, but even so soon after meeting her she could tell it was not ill meant. “The Sandship is not all that much to look at, I will not deny that fact, but it has it’s own charm. I would even go as far as to say that Sunspear would not look as good as it does if it were not there.”

The Princess blinked in surprise. Even the Dornish joked about the Sandship. Lovingly, yes, but joked all the same. “You would be the first to ever say that, at least in my hearing.”

“That is unfortunate.”

Loreza couldn’t help but agree.

Perhaps she was saying this just to win points with her, but praising the Sandship, of all the things she could mention to accomplish that goal… that was very farfetched in her opinion.

She mentally shook her head, resolving to think more of that later, before saying, “How are cities in Great Moraq? I hope to visit one day if the gods are good, but considering the circumstances I hope I shall be visiting in I may not have all that much time to see the sights.”

“Oh?”

“Elia has assured me that she does not feel pressured as she would elsewhere, but she has also admitted that she wishes for children of her own, and if it is at all possible I wish to be there when she has them. She is the only daughter I have borne, after all.”

Lady Mara’s eyes softened at that, and a smile crossed her face. “That, I understand. If my own Jade ever marries, I would do the same for her if I can.”

“I am glad for her, to have a mother that is willing to do that.”

“Jade is not the only one that should be glad.”

Loreza couldn’t stop the smile from crossing her face at that. Yes, she was liking these Moraqi royals quite a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I didn't ever expect this fic to end up being as long as it has turned out to be. Oh well, soft family moments have happened so who cares?
> 
> Not really relevant, but I actually am imagining that Oberyn was born a week before Elia's first birthday. She thought it was the best birthday present at the time. But that does mean that she could conceivably be learning how to walk during the late stages of Loreza's pregnancy, and she wanted to see her baby brother kick so it happened.
> 
> Loreza, as a Dornishwoman who has never felt like her birthright would be usurped by a younger brother or cousin, probably would be kind of disgruntled that this is not something that happens everywhere.
> 
> Loreza and Lady Mara would have to at least be around the same age, so Loreza is 100% jealous at the lack of obvious gray in her hair. She very much blames all of her children. Yes, ALL of them.
> 
> Dorne: The Sandship is ugly, but it's OUR ugly building, dang it!  
> (Seriously, that's how I see it.)
> 
> Sorry for the no real appearance from Mehmed today, but I thought it might be more effective to see it from Elia's perspective.
> 
> Next chapter: Elia gets to talk with her betrothed.


	21. Getting to Know Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elia and Mehmed talk for the first time, and we learn that older siblings can be kind of overprotective.

**Sunspear**

Elia loved all of her cousins. From poor Manfrey, who was always overlooked in their family (though that might partially be by choice now that she thought about it- he was in the awkward position of being too young for Doran to have played with as a child, and too old for her and Oberyn to have sought out to play with all of the time and she wouldn’t blame someone for not wanting to get involved in their shenanigans), to her Orphan cousins on the Greenblood, who she had spent quite a few moons with as she had grown, to her Gargalen cousins, who had come up to Sunspear several times as her uncle Tremond had always wished to see his niece and nephews.

What she did not love was how her cousin Myria Gargalen, who she would freely admit was her closest cousin and was happier to know she would be coming with her to Great Moraq than she could find the words to describe, had no shame to prevent her from barging into her rooms first thing in the morning, waking her and demanding to know what she thought about her betrothed and the people that came with him.

Elia stared up at the ceiling for a very long moment, doing her best to convince herself that strangling her cousin not even a full moon before her wedding would be a terrible idea.

Finally, through gritted teeth she asked, “Myria, what have I said about waking me up too early?”

Myria rolled her eyes, throwing herself on the chair by her vanity. “The sun rose near two hours back, Eli.”

“And I was at that feast for hours. I would like to sleep longer.”

“And? I was dancing all night, yet I am awake and dressed, ready to face the day, and I am not the one with a betrothed that asked me to go for a walk with him this lovely morn.”

Elia was certain that her eye was twitching at this point. “Myri. I am not Oberyn. I do _not_ need hours to dress, and I am certain that Sultan Mehmed meant late morning. He left the feast after I did, and I am certain someone who has been traveling so long would prefer to sleep in.”

“Wow you’re grouchy this morning. Did you not sleep well?”

“I did, until you barged into the room and woke me!”

Myria sighed, and then only as someone who had grown up with such influences as their extended family had could she stood up and threw open the curtains. “Fine. Then I won’t tell you that I saw that several of the Moraqi party are already awake- including Sultana Mara, who I saw discussing some things with some servants they brought. I could not catch everything she said as I am not quite fluent in their language, but I did catch her referring to her son and asking them to get him some food.”

That got Elia to actually sit up and stare at her cousin even as she blinked rapidly at the sudden light. “She did?”

“Yes. So I thought I should wake you and help you get ready because I’m nice like that.”

She sighed, reluctantly pulling back her sheets and getting out of bed. “And you chose to do that by barging in and asking me of what I think of my betrothed?”

“No, that was because I wanted to mess with you.”

Elia sighed yet again, but sat down in front of her mirror, taking her hair out of her loose sleeping braid, mumbling about how she had way too many difficult relatives and why did she invite her to be one of her ladies anyway, to which Myria cheerfully reminded her of the fact that she had practically begged her to come with her because she wanted family around.

That had started some bickering that somehow put Elia into a less grouchy mood, though she was still miffed she didn’t get to sleep in.

She was fully dressed by the time a servant came and told her that Sultan Mehmed had asked if she would like to take a walk in the gardens with him though, so perhaps her cousin could be forgiven just this once… although she was a terrible influence with the clothing she convinced her to wear.

Elia was wearing a saree like she did quite a bit, but somehow Myria had managed to convince her to put her on one that showed a little more skin than usual… meaning that her blouse was smaller than usual and it took some effort to stop herself from adjusting the rest of the fabric to cover everything. At least she could take comfort in the fact that it was still much better than some of the clothing she had seen Ellaria in. Seriously, she and Oberyn deserved each other…

She was relieved to find that this day so far seemed to be unseasonably warm despite autumn being in full swing, so she would not have to deal with that particular regret while wearing this outfit.

The trip down to the gardens was one she had taken many times, but she would admit to feeling quite a bit of anticipation this particular time.

How could she not? This would be the first time she would be in a more private setting with her betrothed. While the gardens were open to all, it was not a crowded hall full of people, and though they had some very pleasant conversations last night, they had not been alone for it, as Doran had proved with several questions of his own.

She loved her big brother, but dear sweet Mother he was annoying at times with how overprotective he could be.

At least Oberyn had been too busy trying to make certain Obara and Nym did not cause too much trouble and talking with Ellaria about things she probably didn’t want to know to interrupt when he wasn’t addressed, and watching him and the sultan trade friendly barbs had been entertaining. Wasn’t it the younger sibling that was supposed to be the most annoying at all times?

Though as annoying as how she had found Doran’s actions, they did still warm her heart. He wanted her to be happy more than anything else. Not just taken care of or simply content, but _happy._

Elia did not have to go far into the gardens to see her betrothed; in fact, she had barely stepped out when she saw him.

“Princess Elia,” he greeted her with a short but still respectful bow.

“Sultan Mehmed,” she replied with a similar curtsey as she looked over him once more.

As Elia had expected, she was not disappointed by his appearance at all. Her baby brother did have impeccable taste in both men and women, and this had proven to not be any sort of exception. In fact, with him in more casual clothing, she thought he looked even more handsome, and was definitely intrigued by his hair. She could already see herself running her hands through it at night, for it looked very soft and wonderful. Did Moraq have their own type of soaps that accomplished that?

Her sudden liking of hair aside, his appearance was not the only thing that impressed her. Throughout the feast the night before, he had been nothing but courteous to not only her, but the rest of her family as well. Not even Obara being as blunt as any of their ancestors when practically demanding him speak about his many military accomplishments managed to make him be anything else.

She would spend a little more time with him before making a true opinion. She wasn’t her brothers or uncle, after all. But from what she had seen of him so far… she had hopes that this union would end up being more than simply political in nature.

“You do not need to bow to me,” Sultan Mehmed told her, cutting into her thoughts.

Elia rose an eyebrow at him. “I was simply showing you the same respect you showed me. Though if you do not find bowing to your liking, we can think of other things for us to do.”

She had meant it innocently, but unfortunately life with the her beloved yet inappropriate little brother had ruined that for her, so her face quickly turned red as she hurriedly looked away, trying to hide how mortified she was that that slipped out as she mentally cursed said baby brother for doing this to her.

Her betrothed laughed, a full laugh that she found herself liking, especially as she could tell that he had not meant it unkindly. “Did Oberyn come up with that particular one?”

Elia rolled her eyes, relaxing now that she knew he was not upset. “He himself? No, that one has been around for years, but I do blame him for these things slipping out occasionally.” She paused, and then laughed herself. “Ellaria is just as bad, so do not be surprised if Doran tries to sneak them on the ships to try and get rid of them.”

That got his lips to turn up in a smile. “I do not believe Princess Loreza would be pleased if he did.”

“No, but it would not stop him from thinking about it before giving up and making plans to kick them out the first opportunity he gets.”

“So we can expect them to visit often?”

“Doran will insist on split custody, though we will have to keep it a secret from our mother. She would rightfully think he’s trying to deprive her of her grandchildren.”

Another smile from him before he offered her his arm. “I was hoping to tour the gardens here this morning. Would you care to show me?”

“I would be delighted, your grace.”

“Just as you need not bow to me, you need not call me anything but by my name.”

Elia blinked at that, glancing up at him and seeing the surprisingly kind look on his face. She had hoped that one day she would be able to drop any titles with her eventual husband, but she had not expected this so soon. “I will, so long as you call me Elia… Mehmed.”

She found herself liking his small smiles. They weren’t the beaming ones she saw on some of her other acquaintances, but were quieter, a tug of his lips rather than anything else, but it suited him well, but to her eyes they suited him better than other ones would.

Their walk started pleasantly. She knew that Sunspear’s gardens were no doubt not as grand as some of Great Moraq’s were if only because of the differences in climate, but he did seem genuinely interested in how they cared for the plants they did have.

Of course, there was one constant if you were a member of House Nymeros Martell, and it was being unable to spend an entire day without being interrupted by adorable little children. The only surprise was who interrupted her today, and how said child did it.

Elia blinked down at the little girl that had chosen to run up, hold onto her skirts, and squint suspiciously at her companion, wondering if she was seeing things, but… nope, it was the same copper brown hair she had first seen. “Obara? Has something happened?” she asked, suddenly worried. Her eldest niece didn’t even do this to the father she adored, so why would she suddenly walk up to her like this?

Obara scowled, still staring suspiciously at Mehmed. “No.” she stated shortly, before addressing the other person near them. “My father said that my uncle was going to spar with you today.”

Elia didn’t catch herself in time to stop herself from facepalming at that. “He has? He could not wait until you have been here for more than a day?” she muttered, silently swearing to get back at her older brother some way before leaving because this was getting ridiculous.

At the very least Mehmed seemed amused rather than anything else. “I believe his reasoning was that both of our mothers wished to speak privately to each other and had arranged all meetings to take place in the coming days, rather than immediately after we had arrived.”

She rolled her eyes at that, but had to admit that Doran had decent reasoning. Still, it would be nice if he could stop being an overprotective sibling for five minutes.

Oh.

_Oh._

_That_ was why Obara was being seemingly out of character. She was suspicious of anyone that wanted to join their family as it was… and it was likely compounded by the fact that Obara was possibly the only one old enough to realize just what this marriage would mean.

Perhaps Nym vaguely understood as well, but she was only four so it was hard to tell, and she knew the other three were far too young to understand. Obara, however, was old enough to fully realize that as much as she may wish otherwise, Elia would be leaving in but a few moons and would not be coming back for anything other than a visit.

That knowledge was already hard enough for Elia herself, but she didn’t even think about what it would be like for the smaller members of her family.

She knew that she had wiped that realization from her face mere moments after it had occurred to her, but she still saw her betrothed looking at her with some sort of calculation in his eyes that she wished did not remind her so much of some of Doran’s gazes.

Thankfully Obara completely missed all of this, and simply nodded and looked up at Mehmed, still squinting suspiciously at him. “That is what I was told. Do you think you can beat him?”

“I have not fought against your uncle before, but I am still up by two against your own father for victories when sparring.”

“Yes, but papa won the last three before he left, and that number will get bigger!”

Elia couldn’t stop herself from laughing at that insistent statement. Obara- and the rest of the sand snakes- practically worshiped the ground their father walked on, so who was surprised that she would say something like that?

Mehmed seemed to be just as amused, if the quirk of his lips and the look in his eyes was any indication, but he did not laugh like she did. No, he knelt down to look Obara in the eyes (which wasn’t as much as one would think; her niece was tall for her age, something that she was a little jealous of- she was average in height for a Dornishwoman, but most of her friends and family were taller than her with the exception of Mellario and it slightly irked her, something she knew would continue to dog her steps the rest of her days if the woman of Great Moraq were even a fraction as tall as Lengii women were said to be) and said, “It does not matter if I win in a mere spar or not, so long as the objectives set out are met.”

“And what are your objectives?”

“Making certain that your uncle doesn’t attempt to do something worse to me than asking me to meet him in a simple spar for the debatable crime of marrying his younger sister.”

That deadpan statement got both of the females present to laugh, something that was very good for the future. Yes, Obara was still looking warily at him, but she wasn’t as tense as she was before. A _very_ good sign. Now he just had to let Nym hug him for way too long and compliment Tyene on her outfit or provide all three of them with sharp objects to win over all of the sand snakes.

Obara looked at the both of them suspiciously, before muttering something about needing to see whether or not her little sisters wanted to watch the spar too- something that was obviously an excuse because all of the sand snakes liked messing around the training grounds and learning to fight- before giving him a final look and walking off.

Once she was gone, Mehmed said dryly, “She is her father’s daughter.”

Elia snorted. “Believe me, Nymeria will more than likely end up far more like Oberyn than Obara will. Perhaps Obara gets his warrior like mindset, but Nym reminds me more of him outside of that. At the very least, she likes reading about history far more than her older sister ever will. In fact, with your party arriving, she has practically demanding for stories to read or hear about the first Princess Mara, one of our ancestors.”

“Princess Mara?”

“You don’t know about her?” Elia asked, surprised. She would have thought Oberyn would have mentioned their ancestress at some time or another…

“No, I do not. She was Moraqi?”

Still a little surprised, she shrugged and answered, “Yes. She was the consort of Prince Elio near four hundred years ago. She was said to have been a merchant from Great Moraq.”

_“Said_ to be?”

“That is what she and her husband always said.” She paused, eyeing him. “You suspect something.”

“Hmm. Around that time, there was quite a bit of instability in the empire. More than a few members of the Han family left to avoid the chaos, and not all of them came back.”

Elia blinked. She had learned of said period in her studies of the country, but had never put those two things together until now. “You don’t think…?”

Mehmed simply shrugged. “I am not certain we would ever find out one way or another.”

“No,” she agreed. Her family had access to several writings from many of their ancestors, and neither Prince Elios nor Princess Mara had ever spoken of whether she had family left in Moraq or not, nor had they ever reached out to her homeland for whatever reason.

Elia shook her head, dislodging those thoughts. While she did want to know, he was right in that they would likely ever find out, not unless there was something to be found in Moraq itself. She may look into it just out of simple curiosity, but she would not ever expect an answer.

Instead of continuing on the subject, she said, “I am both surprised and yet not at all that you have not heard of her. She brought rice to Dorne, and is revered as the Princess of Rice for that very reason, not to mention she managed to overhaul the way we grow crops in addition to that. However, her own daughter is much more famous than her, even if it had looked like said daughter would stay in her shadow for the first eighty years of her life.”

“Who was this daughter?”

Elia grinned. “Why, Ruling Princess Meria Nymeros Martell, the Yellow Toad herself.”

Mehmed looked amused at that. “I should have guessed.”

“Probably, but you shall be forgiven for this particular lapse of understanding.”

“I will strive to not need forgiveness for something like that in the future.”

Elia laughed, letting him draw her further into the gardens for an enjoyable morning.

She knew that one morning was not long enough to know everything about her betrothed, but it did set some lingering worries she had to rest, for while she trusted her baby brother with her life, she had still agreed to marry someone she had never even met before and had some reservations no matter how much she had attempted to squash them.

She would not expect love, not this early on, but she was starting to hope that it would one day come to them.

At the very least, she was very attracted to him. The spar she witnessed between her betrothed and her older brother proved that, something she had not expected as she had never before seen why so many of her friends enjoyed watching men in the training grounds.

The only blemish- if it could even be called that- was how Doran decided to try and cheat by bringing Arianne with him to watch. Oh, he said it was because his daughter just wanted to spend family time with everyone, but the fact remained that Arianne obviously supported her papa and was not afraid to scream her support for him.

Elia would admit to not wishing it any other way if asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On Myria: she and Oberyn get along very well. That should tell you everything.
> 
> Doran is a bit of an overprotective brother and you will never be able to convince me otherwise. The image is just too good.
> 
> Elia's love of Mehmed's hair in A Shadowed Path will never not amuse me, so I had to mention it here. She just really likes it.
> 
> ...I might have projected a little bit on Elia thinking about her height, oops.
> 
> So, Princess Consort Mara. Was she a merchant? Was she royalty? That's a good question they'll probably never find the answer to because Mara probably isn't an uncommon name in Moraq! I will say that it wouldn't be the first or last time a Martell married a merchant or someone from that class even if it isn't common.  
> (Oh and that instability mentioned? Despite the timing, it wasn't directly related to the Century of Blood.)
> 
> So... bit of an update... there may not be an update Friday. I might be getting a little burned out and should probably take a couple days off from writing. I will update Monday regardless, and who knows? Maybe I'll be hit with a random burst of inspiration and write like three chapters and two days and the Friday update will still happen. I just thought I'd warn you guys now.
> 
> Next chapter: Rhaella talks to her son.


	22. Two Very Different Sons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaella spends time talking to her sons.
> 
> It goes about as well as you would assume for the both of them.

**King’s Landing**

“Be careful where you touch the roses, Visy,” Rhaella said, gently placing a hand on her youngest son’s shoulder to stop him.

Viserys just looked up at her with a confused look. “Why, mama? They’re just pretty flowers!”

Rhaella didn’t answer immediately, instead kneeling down and carefully grabbing one of the stems of the white roses they were looking at. “Do you see these thorns?” she asked, using her other hand to point at one of said thorns. “These roses do look beautiful at first glance and they always will be, but if you look closer they can hurt you if you’re not careful.”

Her son looked at the rose with a thoughtful expression. “Why do they need them?”

“To protect. When someone uncaring tries to take them, the thorns will make certain they regret it.”

“So like you mama!”

“What?” Rhaella asked, barely managing to force herself from wrenching herself away from her own son in her surprise.

Viserys did not notice, thankfully, and simply beamed at her. “Mama is the prettiest, and she protects us from the monsters!”

 _Oh, my sweet son,_ Rhaella thought, smiling at him and doing her best to not let her thoughts show on her face. _I could not prevent your older brother from becoming what he is now, and had it not been for things that were completely out of my control, I would not have been able to protect you from the monster I fear you are referring to either._

Before she could find anything to say, her son reached out with a concentrated look on his face and carefully grabbed one of the roses, picking it and holding it out to her with another beaming smile. “For you, mama!”

Rhaella couldn’t stop herself from smiling at him, ruffling his hair and carefully taking it from him. “Thank you, my son. Though please do not pick many flowers in the future, for I do not believe the gardeners will be too happy with it.”

Viserys’ smile dropped at that and he looked down at his shoes. “I just wanted mama to have pretty flowers…”

“You misunderstand me,” she said, reaching out and using her hand to make him look up at her. “I am not at all upset with you, my fierce little dragon. I just ask you to be considerate of others in the future, as a true dragon prince should.”

Her son eagerly nodded at her. “I will, mama!”

She smiled at him, leaning forward as if to tell him a secret. “In fact, you are the first to give me flowers in years, and I am glad that it was you to have given me this rose, my sweet. I feel like the luckiest woman alive, to have gotten such a gift from such a gracious boy.”

Viserys beamed at her again, reaching forward and hugging her tightly, a hug that she very willingly returned before carefully showing her son how to take the thorns off of the rose, tucking it behind her ear once they were all gone to her son’s excitement.

Of course, all good things had to eventually come to an end. Hurried footsteps came towards them, and Rhaella had to force down the flash of fear that she felt at the sound. She was well able to hide that fear, but no matter how long it had been she still felt that at any moment the man that had given her so much pain would be back. She had seen his body buried with more honor than he had ever deserved, but she had been forced under his rule for so long…

Soon enough, the owner of the footsteps was revealed to be Gerold Hightower, the so-called “Lord” Commander of the Kingsguard. He bowed to the both of them before saying, “Queen Rhaella, Prince Viserys.”

Rhaella simply gazed at the man with a cold expression, for she could not bring herself to muster any warmth for the men sworn to protect the king and no one else. “What business do you have for me?”

“The King wishes to see you in his solar.”

“Tell him that I will see him later.”

“Your grace-“

“Tell _my son,”_ she said, making certain to emphasize those two words, “that I am spending time with Viserys, his own brother, and will speak to him once we are done.”

She despised how shocked they always looked when she did not acquiesce to someone’s demands. They all believed that she was too soft, too _broken_ to have an opinion of her own, as if they had not seen her finally remember that she had fire of her own and assumed that she would soon forget that fact.

They failed to realize that nothing they could do would ever compare to the life she had already been forced to live through and as a result, she found it very hard to be terrified of the current reality.

Hightower did manage to wipe the surprise off of his face faster than most, she would allow him that much. For a long moment, he looked like he wished to say something more, but swallowed his words and simply bowed before walking off.

Rhaella let out a sharp breath, looking down at her beloved son and smiling at him. “Do you want to hear a story my own Aunt Rhaelle told me of when she was young and walked these very gardens?”

Viserys eagerly nodded, listening intently as she told him of how Aunt Rhaelle had apparently spread dandelion seeds throughout some of the less visited areas of the gardens when she was seven, and the gardeners had not caught it soon enough to keep them from sprouting, all because one of the gardeners had shooed her out for no reason other than they believed they could get away with it, as they had assumed that Rhaelle, with her black hair and eyes that seemed black unless you looked closer and saw that they were instead a deep purple, was some foolish child of some lord that had no reason to be in King’s Landing at all.

She spent more time in the gardens than she had originally planned, but not out of spite, little as she cared if anyone believed that. No, she simply enjoyed spending time with her youngest without fear hanging over their heads.

Eventually though, Viserys got tired, and she obligingly took him back up to their rooms and tucked him in for a nap, smiling down at his sleeping face and gently running a hand through his hair and kissing his brow before softly closing the door behind her.

One son taken care of, Rhaella squared her shoulders and regally walked to talk to the other son she had borne that lived, the one she wished she did not feel so disappointed in.

How could she not though? Rhaegar had been in King’s Landing for near a fortnight now and he had barely come out of his rooms for more than meals, instead pouring over who knows what texts rather than ruling the kingdoms that remained and consolidating power for their family, something they desperately needed after his predecessor’s actions.

As far as she was aware- and she was aware of far more than most anyone would assume- he had not once visited Arthur Dayne despite having called him a friend. One would believe a friend would visit their friend when they were sick, and after what the jailers in the Black Cells did it was very much a time when he would be allowed that without question.

(Said jailers had all been dismissed by Tywin, for even he found the way they treated a Kingsguard knight despicable. He even agreed with her that perhaps the best thing they could do would be to quietly return Dayne to his family in Dorne if it was possible, for the jailers had taken full advantage of someone they saw as undeserving of a position above theirs and whether he would ever be able to resume his duties as a knight was very much in question.)

She feared what she would find in his rooms. Not fear for herself, but fear for the future.

Rhaella had to force down her displeasure when she had to be formally announced before she was allowed in to see her own son. She did remember the good days of her childhood when her grandparents allowed her in at any time without much waiting, but she knew that their successors had insisted on formality despite her being their own daughter. Her son could just be insisting on the same.

She blinked upon walking in, apprehension growing as the door shut behind her and she took in all of the texts and papers spread out on practically every available surface in the solar. “Rhaegar, what…?” she started, wondering if he had taken every single paper all the various libraries in the Red Keep held to fuel whatever research he was doing.

“Ah, mother! You have arrived!”

To Rhaegar’s credit, he immediately jumped up from his chair and cleared off a place for her to sit. Once that was done, he smiled at her, which somehow only made her even more apprehensive. “Mother, I believe I have found a way to dispense with the Martells’ foolish actions.”

Rhaella was silent for several long moments after that declaration. First, she had to bite her tongue to keep from pointing out that it was not the Dornish that made foolish actions in this case, but as that would unfortunately turn the conversation towards _that man,_ she had no desire to get into it.

After several long moments, she chose to look dubiously at all of the papers strewn around the room. “My son, I do not believe any of these papers would contain anything pressing that the Dornish would accept as proof that they should give up their sovereignty yet again.”

“Ah, but when they hear of the prophecy they will change their minds!”

Rhaella felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice straight from the Wall on her. “The what?” she whispered, more horror filling her than she had felt since the day she had realized what her family would force her into.

“Yes, the Prince That Was Promised,” Rhaegar continued, seemingly unaware of how she was frozen in horror. “One of the signs of his birth shall be the fact that he was born under a bleeding star. The Martells’ sigil is a sun pierced by a spear, and could very well be the bleeding star they have mentioned. Now, I do not know what being ‘born amidst salt and smoke’ could be referring to, but if the sigil could be something as simple as that it could easily be referring to something just as benign. Once we send word to Dorne, they will see how necessary it is that I wed Elia Martell, to produce pure Targaryen children to fulfill this-“

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?”

A small part of Rhaella felt horrible upon seeing her own son jump in shock at her words, for she could not remember the last time she had yelled at someone, if she ever had, and she certainly had never so much as rose her voice at her eldest.

(She regretted the fact that she had not scolded him more, but what could she have done better? She had been forced to bear her first child at thirteen. She had still been a child herself no matter what people tried to say, and had just watched her family burn in the flames of Summerhall. How could she have been the mother a crown prince needed? It was partially why she had sworn that she would do better than Viserys, for she would not allow that to happen to another one of her children.)

That small part of her was nowhere near enough to stop herself from standing up and slamming her hands on a table, glaring at her son and feeling angrier than she had in years, including when she had finally found her voice after twenty years and stood up to that man that had thought to claim the throne.

Her voice dropped in volume, but anger still laced every single word she spoke. “You mean to tell me that you are planning things based on a _prophecy?”_ she spat.

“I-“

“Do you know why they forced me to marry my own brother?” Rhaella asked rhetorically, not allowing him to speak more than a single word. “They forced us to marry- against _both_ of our wishes, might I add- because Jenny’s damned witch claimed that our line would sire heroes. My own parents forced the both of us into misery, for as little as I mourn your sire, I do know for certain that he wished to be tied to me just as much as I had him.

“For twenty years I was forced to live a life I know that my grandmother, my aunt, the ladies who actually cared for me and were like the sibling or mother I wish had been mine instead of the ones I did in reality, a life that none of them would have wished for me but that the _men_ in my life chained me to. From my very wedding night I was raped by my own brother, for he refused to listen to me when I begged him to leave our sham of a marriage unconsummated so that it could be set aside when he became king.”

Rhaella was pleased that Rhaegar looked horrified at that mention. He had to know that she did not invite the man she had been chained to into bed with her, but the horror in his face made her hope that he would at least spare his eventual wife from that fate, though it did nothing to keep her silent any longer.

“I do not regret that you are my son, for you were a balm during those long years of pain.” _The years of your childhood at least, before you came of age and I realized you kept refusing to make a move to depose your insane father._ “But how I wish you had been born later, when my body could have handled childbirth better, when I was not still a child myself no matter whether I had bled or not.

“I had to watch as I miscarried child after child, watch all of your siblings bar one die soon after their births. I had to deal with the fact that all of the blame was laid on me by that man I had been forced to endure. I had to deal with being a prisoner in my own home despite having committed no crime, to be locked into a set of rooms in Maegor’s Holdfast and never allowed to spend a single moment alone, not even when I slept, for that man thought I was unfaithful when I knew my duty better than he ever had, little as I liked said duty.

 _“That,_ my son, is what a _prophecy_ such as the one you speak of now brought to me.”

Silence was the only thing that reigned in the room after that declaration.

Perhaps Rhaella should feel bad for the broken look her son held, but she could not bring herself to. Better broken than committing the same sins his forefathers had, for at this stage broken could be put back together.

After a long moment, she sighed and said in a far gentler voice, “Prophecies may come true, but the cost always seems to be far too high for it to have been worth it.”

When he still said nothing, Rhaella sighed again, walking towards her son and taking his hands in a gesture that she had learned for her dear Loreza, a Dornish sign of trust- not that she expected Rhaegar to know that fact, for his sire had distrusted the Dornish for no reason at all and would never allow anyone from that country to come close to his heir despite the fact that they themselves had Dornish blood twice over from Myriah Martell and Dyanna Dayne.

“If you try basing your entire argument on a prophecy, at best you would be laughed out of Dorne,” she warned, looking into his eyes. “They would consider you to have inherited the insanity that has dogged your forefathers and refuse to so much as pretend to listen to you. Not only that, but Princess Elia will no doubt be married by the time you even could, and even if she were not they would refuse to give any child of Dorne to you after what your predecessor said he would do to her. That man broke all of the contracts that Daeron the Good had carefully negotiated with Prince Maron not even a century ago, the contracts that they signed in return for Dorne’s fealty to the Iron Throne. As far as they are concerned, they are right and justified in claiming independence.

“I warn you, you need to allow Dorne to go peacefully and instead spend all of your efforts into pacifying the remaining Kingdoms of Westeros. You will not convince them to come back willingly, and attempting to bring them back under your rule would end in your death, just as happened to the first Daeron, and I have no desire to see Viserys forced to sit on that throne at such a young age. It would truly be the end of the rule of our family, for vultures do not care whether someone is a dragon or not- to them, all they would see is weakness in that scenario.”

Rhaella waited for her son to say something for minutes, but Rhaegar did not. Finally tiring of him staring into space, she sighed and reached out a hand to cup his cheek. “I know that my words are harsh, my son, but you cannot continue to live in fantasies. A King cannot afford it, especially with everything that has happened in these past decades.”

Rhaegar still said nothing as she left the room.

Rhaella managed to keep it in, dismissing everyone from her rooms- even a worried Amista, her always steadfast friend, who gazed at her with such sympathy that it almost broke her right then and there- before walking out onto her balcony, breathing in the fresh air and allowing her tears to finally fall.

She had no idea who to pray to, for the Seven had abandoned her if they had ever existed to begin with, the Valyrian gods were most likely dead and even if they were not she had no idea how to even begin to worship them, and any other gods were very unlikely to listen to a Targaryen, as little as she considered herself to be part of that family now.

She had no idea who to pray to, but she still sent out a plea for whoever wished to take pity on her and listen that her eldest would listen to her words and spare Viserys the fate she feared would await him if the future that haunted her nightmares came to pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Viserys. A lot of people do seem to make him out to be the token crazy member of the targs even in a good au... but let's face it, he didn't have much chance not to end up the way he did in canon. He had an insane father that no doubt was a terrible role model, his mother died giving birth to his sister, and he was hounded by assassins hired by a man who couldn't see that they were children for years. I want to imagine that his life would be much better with his mother still around and he wasn't sent into exile and he turns out to be better.
> 
> Rhaella continues to have zero respect for the Kingsguard. This will probably continue, for I doubt that, even if she makes peace with some of them, she'll ever trust them.
> 
> Not really relevant, but I like to imagine that Rhaelle was the type of person that Lyonel Baratheon quickly ended up adoring and very much wished had been betrothed to his son to begin with because at least she's not an idiot. Also, she and Ormund had the best marriage out of that entire generation in spite of what happened, not because of. That distinction makes a difference.
> 
> I actually meant to go into more about what happened to Arthur Dayne here, but it didn't flow right. Suffice to say that it was not good, and we will see more of his state in later chapters.
> 
> Full disclosure: I did not come up with that interpretation of "bleeding star" part of the prophecy myself. I saw it in a fic once, and I'm sure I deleted it from my history and I can't remember enough details to find it again. I think it was a one shot at least...
> 
> Rhaella's rant to Rhaegar actually ended up much less angry than I originally planned, but at this point she does have a tiny bit of hope that he can pull himself together. She just doesn't expect that hope to turn into anything at this point. She's been too disappointed by reality to.
> 
> Next chapter: Our three favorite siblings spend time together!


	23. Siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our three favorite siblings spend time together. Doran wonders why he ever wanted siblings, but he loves them anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this house, we let Doran Nymeros Martell live with full knowledge that his younger siblings are safe and happy because that makes him happy and he deserves happiness.

**Sunspear**

Oberyn had thought that he would be free to nap without continuous interruptions after Ellaria entered his life. Everyone kept assuming that they were having sex far more often than they actually did and none of them wanted to walk in and see that, and the girls knew to knock and wait for one of them to get them if the door was closed.

He had thought wrong.

To be fair, he had not been asleep, so much as simply resting his eyes and enjoying how peaceful it was, what with blessed silence devoid of children or responsibilities and being able to feel the wonderful weight that was Ellaria half laying on him, her head pillowed in the crook of his neck, her slow, soft breaths something he hoped he would never take for granted.

(He hadn’t realized just how nice it was to simply lay with someone and do absolutely nothing but rest.)

But even though he hadn’t actually been asleep, he still very much did not appreciate it when someone knocked on his door and interrupted his peace.

Ellaria groaned next to him, sleepily asking, “Has something happened?”

“Nothing except some annoying family member decided to bug us.” Oberyn flatly said, shooting the door a glare.

“The both of you had better be covered up because I am coming in!”

“Aaaaaaand it’s Elia,” he muttered, slamming his head back on the pillows.

Ellaria sighed, seeming to cuddle closer to him. “Do you remember how I said I wished I had siblings of my own the day we met?”

“Yes?”

“I take it back. I am happy to be an only child.”

Oberyn snorted at that, but was cut off from saying anything else before the door opened, revealing his older sister dressed in a riding outfit.

Said sister immediately raised an eyebrow at them. “Did you two seriously decide to take a nap in your clothes? Who are you and what have you done to Oberyn and Ellaria?”

“We had to deal with Arianne after her father allowed her have far too much sugar. Fuck the state of our clothing.” Ellaria deadpanned, finally lifting her head to stare at her soon to be goodsister.

Elia actually flinched at that. “Dear sweet Mother Rhoyne, and he says you spoil the sand snakes… But if you wish to get back at him, I would dearly appreciate spending the afternoon out riding with my two favorite brothers, and I would happily judge what ever contest the two of you choose to have. I may even be convinced to rule in your favor in a tie should Doran not have a good enough explanation as to why he let his daughter run rampant without him to mind her.”

Oberyn would like to just spend the rest of the afternoon napping with his lover, but he couldn’t bring himself to refuse his older sister anything. Not when her wedding was only three days away and this would likely be the last time they were able to for who knows how long.

He sighed. “Fine, I’ll meet you two at the stables.”

Elia beamed at him and left, but not before saying, “You had better meet us soon, I am already changed and I left Doran in his own rooms!”

He rolled his eyes, but reluctantly released his lover and went to change, greatly appreciating the way she turned to watch him put on one of his riding outfits. (He might admit to have changed far slower than usual, but the only woman whose opinion mattered in this case certainly didn’t mind.)

“I have to say I feel bad for Elia,” Ellaria said after a minute. “We’ll simply have to show up for our ceremony from everything I have learned. She has to deal with your mother, Mellario, _and_ Lady Mara all at the same time, and none of them will stand for anything short of a perfect ceremony.”

He snorted, slowly pulling on his shirt. “And this is why I am perfectly happy having a Rhoynish ceremony. It’s short, to the point, and there’s less reason for families to fuss because it’s so simple.”

“Short especially. I was not there obviously or we may have met then, but I remember my father complaining about the last marriage Sunspear held and how long the ceremony dragged on, and I am not looking forward to this one.”

“Don’t worry, my mother was just as displeased as everyone else was, if not even more so, and one of the first things she told that idiot of a septon’s successor was the consequences should he drag things on even half as long.”

“Thank the gods for that.”

Sadly enough, even Oberyn couldn’t drag getting dressed out much longer and so finally pulled on his boots and kissed Ellaria before leaving her to her nap.

He ended up having to take an alternative route down to the stables to avoid Mellario and Kybele, one of the three cousins that had stayed in Dorne as her ladies. (While Tais was the most terrifying of all three of said cousins, Kybele came very close at times, especially when it involved planning something. Yet again, he sent out his thanks to whatever was listening that he wouldn’t have to deal with wedding in the sept and didn’t have to deal with her.) He didn’t even see them, only heard them, but he was fluent in Valyrian and knew he wanted absolutely nothing to do with what they were planning. In fact, he was starting to wonder if this sibling horse ride had been Doran’s idea because he didn’t want to get involved in their plans for the wedding again.

The fact that his older brother was practically hiding in the same stall as his horse when he walked in did absolutely nothing to disprove that theory.

As he was himself, Oberyn couldn’t not tease him over that. “What is it about today that’s making you hide from your wife and daughter? I personally thought it had been a pleasant morning before Arianne realized that you have no defense against her asking for more sugar and you chose to run away from that particular mistake.”

That got Elia to practically fall over her horse from laughing too hard while Doran peeked over the entrance of the stall he was hiding in to glare at the both of them. “Elia, I insist you take him with you. That way I may finally know peace with both of you away from Sunspear.”

Elia just grinned at him. “Ah, but we would take the sand snakes with us, and how would you explain to Arianne that you have deprived her of her favorite cousin? Or even worse, explain to mama that she won’t get to see her granddaughters whenever she wants anymore?”

Doran just grabbed his horse and walked out of the stables as the youngest two children of Loreza and Maron Martell started laughing yet again.

The ride itself was about the same as most any other one they went on over the years had. They got way too much sand in their clothes, Doran tried to cheat during their contests and was caught, Oberyn himself tried to cheat and was only caught by Elia half of the time, they both knew that Elia cheated but couldn’t quite prove it, and they all felt kind of bad for the poor guards that got stuck following them because no one was willing to go against their uncle’s orders. Lewyn Martell took his duty as captain of Sunspear’s guards very seriously.

Eventually, as the sun crept lower and lower in the sky, they stopped by the sea to rest. Oberyn idly wondered if they should have gone for a dawn ride instead, as then they could have watched the sun rise over the sea. Considering everything going on, Elia had probably wanted her sleep more than she wanted to watch the sunrise though.

Said sister tore off her boots and rolled up her pants to go wading in the waves, making Doran roll his eyes and yell, “You had better not be searching for an eel.”

“I am now that you mentioned it, dear big brother!”

Oberyn snickered, causing said brother to turn his gaze on him. The promise of retribution shining in his eyes if he dared to join his sister in bugging him only encouraged him to take off his own boots and join in the search.

Sadly, their search was for naught, and they finally gave it a rest and sat down next to their brother, who looked far too relieved to not be faking some of it.

“You know you’re the one that first showed me how to chase people with eels, right?” Elia abruptly said, looking over at their older brother.

“And I have regretted it ever since,” Doran dryly replied.

Huh. Oberyn hadn’t realized that that’s where it came from. Elia had apparently happily showed him how fun it was to chase people with eels the moment he learned how to walk, but he’d assumed that she had figured it out herself or learned it from their uncle because he wanted to mess with their mother through his niece. Though it shouldn’t come as that much of a surprise; Doran would never admit to it, but he had been very lenient about some of their pranks and even quietly abetted a few of them.

After a moment, Elia finally noticed how her hair was falling out of her braid and immediately set about fixing it, muttering about how annoying dealing with her curls were. Before she could do much more than take her hair out of the braid and start to comb through it with her fingers, Doran quietly asked for permission before sitting behind her and taking over, his own hands deftly securing the thick curls in a braid in a motion practiced over the past twenty-two years.

Oberyn tried not to notice the sudden bittersweet look that crept into his older sister’s eyes at the way their brother carefully braided her hair, just as he had countless times over the years. It was hard for him to not notice, however. He was only a few days shy of a year younger than Elia was, and there had not been a single time in his life when she wasn’t in it. Even when he had been fostering away from Sunspear or adventuring around Essos he had still gotten as many letters from her as could be delivered.

He wouldn’t say a single thing. Other than the usual comment Doran jokingly made about how she should take him and Ellaria with her when she left, Elia had avoided all talk about the future the entire afternoon, carefully changing topics when it came too close to mentioning the wedding taking place in three days.

He was pretty sure it wasn’t out of fear or trepidation. No, he personally thought that she wanted one last day where things stayed the same.

He couldn’t blame her. Elia had always been in Sunspear to welcome him home after a trip. He wasn’t looking forward to that changing.

Of course, he wasn’t the only one here, and apparently sometimes their older brother didn’t get a clue.

Or Doran was in one of his nostalgic moods where he couldn’t keep things in.

It was hard to tell sometimes.

“I remember when our papa taught me how to braid your hair,” Doran said with a small smile as he tied the braid off. “My first attempt was terrible, but you were so calm during it and did not care what it looked like. You simply beamed at me before running off and making some mischief.”

Ah, he called their father “papa.” Definitely a nostalgic mood then.

“Oh?” Elia asked, turning to smile at him with a sweet smile that promised mischief to anyone that actually knew her. “What kind of mischief? Was it one of the times you try to pretend that you didn’t encourage us because you were as much a doting big brother as you are a doting father?”

“The kind of mischief that involved you realizing that Oberyn learned how to crawl and managed to get him into my rooms where he completely messed up my bedding.”

Oberyn snorted. “You mean I wanted to take a nap and claimed one of your blankets.”

Doran looked at him suspiciously. “If you still have that blanket, I would ask for it back.”

“It’s been like twenty years. Why would you think I still have it?”

“Because it is you we are talking about.”

“You have so little faith in me.”

“When it comes to my favorite blankets, no, I do not.”

Elia snorted at that, shaking her head at their brother. “Doran, how old are you supposed to be?”

“…Thirty-two.”

“And you’re acting how old?”

Oberyn started laughing at that, not even caring at how he was getting sand in his hair yet again when he collapsed on the ground because there were few things funnier then watching his sister teasingly lecture their brother.

Doran let out another long-suffering sigh, one they had heard many different times throughout their entire lives and would continue to hear because that had to be the one constant in the world.

(Yes, Doran’s sighing at their antics were in fact the one constant in the world. Even death couldn’t beat it considering tales he had heard of necromancers in Essos. While he had never confirmed them because to him that crossed a line, the fact that said tales existed to begin with didn’t bode well for Doran, who no doubt wished that his sighing would be eclipsed by some other constant.)

Oberyn would have kept laughing for a while, but the hilarity was cut short by Elia’s face suddenly crumbling and her letting out a sniff. “Elia?”

“It’s nothing!”

Both of the men present looked at each other before Doran reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “It is not nothing.”

Elia sniffed again and shook her head. “It’s just… when is the next time we will be able to go for a ride like this, here in Dorne? Just the three of us?”

Before either of them could say anything, she shook her head again. “Don’t think I regret my choices, or that I won’t be able to find happiness elsewhere. Just… is it selfish of me to want to have everything despite it being impossible?”

At that, Doran wrapped her up in a hug, silently gesturing for Oberyn to do the same. “No. It is not selfish of you. Not at all.”

They stayed there for several minutes, but eventually they let go of each other. Elia discreetly wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and Oberyn would admit to having to blink rapidly to keep his emotions in. Doran seemed to be free from doing the same, but he gazed at the both of them with a bittersweet look on his face.

The three of them stayed out for awhile longer, but eventually Doran got up and started ushering them back to Sunspear for the evening meal because they needed to eat, causing both of the younger siblings to exchange amused looks. When he wanted to be, Doran could be quite the mother hen, and had proved it throughout their entire lives, though now he mostly turned his efforts towards Arianne. (And Tyene since she could be found around Arianne more than she could her own older sisters. There had been one hilarious occasion where a not as drunk as he wished people to believe Franklyn Fowler had thought Doran had twins and started wondering if Mellario actually had blonde hair hiding beneath her veils. If her eyebrows were any indication, she actually had brown hair, though Oberyn certainly wasn’t foolish enough to try and figure out that fact for sure. Some things were better left as a mystery.)

Before they could see more than the Winding Walls of Sunspear in the distance, Doran stopped them and quietly asked their sister, “Elia, you are certain you do not regret any of this?”

Elia sighed, but wasn’t able to completely hide how the corners of her lips twitched in amusement. “Isn’t it a little late to change my mind?”

Oberyn snorted. “Please. They’ve never learned how to fight in a desert because they haven’t had to. We could make a quick getaway tomorrow and hide in the sands until they give up and leave.”

To his surprise, their older brother solemnly nodded. “It is an ill-advised option, but it is open to you if the need be.”

Elia stared at the both of them for several long moments before breaking out into a small but grateful smile. “No, I have no regrets with my marriage. But the fact that both of you are willing to offer to do that even jokingly… Doran, I know you keep trying to foist Oberyn on me, but I wish that the both of you could come with me.”

Neither of them could do much as they were on their horses, but Doran reached over and clasped her hand. “We will visit.”

Oberyn nodded. “We will, don’t doubt that.”

Elia’s smile widened. “I don’t doubt it. How could I?”

They rode in a companionable silence until they finally reached the gates of the city, when Oberyn realized that this was the perfect time to do something and smirked before turning to Doran and asking, “You said that _we_ will visit her. Does that mean that you’ve finally admitted that you don’t want me to deprive you of my glorious presence?”

And so it was that all three living children of the current Ruling Princess walked into the Shadow City, their people seeing with their own eyes how both Elia and Oberyn were laughing while Doran shook his head at them, a slightly exasperated but still amused smile gracing his face. Their people took heart in seeing that, for if their ruling family could laugh then things could not be as dire as some of the more cynical denizens of Dorne predicted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the only characters that were originally supposed to show up were the three siblings. Oberyn just insisted on getting cuddles from Ellaria and you have to pick your battles with him.
> 
> Doran lives in fear that one day he'll make Mellario's cousins mad and they'll show them their displeasure. He didn't realize what he was signing up for when he agreed that it would be a good idea for them to stay :(
> 
> Doran was also very happy to finally get younger siblings and also wasn't there all the time at the start since he was fostering. He as a result somewhat spoiled them and showed them how to make a little bit of mischief, and regretted it when he came home and realized what he had done. Though their dad and uncle helped even more, so it wasn't all his fault.
> 
> Tyene and Arianne don't look that much like each other. Yeah, they do share some features, but not any more than family usually does. But they're so close that it's easy to just assume they're fraternal twins.
> 
> For the record, Doran and Oberyn were joking about stealing Elia away if that's what she wanted, but they were also serious. Elia knows this and loves them.
> 
> Also, Oberyn is actually very smart and political, he just acts like he's not both because it amuses him and because it makes people underestimate him.
> 
> Anyway, filler chapter, but I really wanted these three to spend time together. Next chapter will progress the plot, don't worry.
> 
> Next chapter: The wedding. Loreza is very emotional because it's her daughter.


	24. New Beginnings, and Yet Partings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elia's marriage arrives, and Loreza reflects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a little later update today, sorry about that. I actually thought I had finished this chapter then I opened it up this morning and it turns out I didn't :'D

**Sunspear**

Despite the fact that it had happened over thirty years ago, Loreza still remembered her wedding to Maron clearly. It had been the happiest day of her life, possibly only eclipsed by the day that she found Doran carefully leading his younger siblings, both of whom were only three and four at the time, through the gardens and she finally realized that yes, these three children of theirs would thrive.

There had been one thing that she had long wondered, however, and it was why her mother had visibly felt so bittersweet as she helped her dress and watched her wed. She knew that Princess Aliandra had not disproved of her choice of groom, not at all- while her mother admitted that she would have wished for her to know she loved him for certain before they wed, just as she herself had, she had assured her that she knew that Maron Gargalen would be the husband and consort she needed. She had also expressed regret that she felt pressure to marry at only eighteen, but that had been pushed aside when it was pointed out that she had not wished for her health to take a turn, and that Loreza herself did not regret it at all.

Loreza had not known why her mother felt that way then- _couldn’t_ have known it then- but she did now as she watched her own daughter prepare for her own wedding ceremony.

Like her own mother, it was not that she disproved of the groom. Loreza had spoken many times with Sultan Mehmed during the weeks he had been here, and she found him to actually be what Oberyn had said he was and what she had divined from her correspondence with the rulers of Great Moraq. She had not expected otherwise, but she was pleased all the same.

(The fact that she could see with her own eyes that Mehmed actually took an interest in running his country helped much more than she had expected. She still had spies active north of their borders and continued to get regular updates because she was not a fool, after all.)

No, the bittersweet feelings came from the full realization that her daughter was no longer the sweet little girl who had run up to her and given her little things she had made because she wanted to make her mother smile.

Some would say that a girl became a woman when her moonblood first appeared, but Dorne scorned that idea. A woman came of age at sixteen, same as men, and they were still the only country in Westeros- and even some of Essos- that had outright banned marriages when one or both of the parties were under fifteen. Even then, there were still some grumbling about how the age should be raised further, but as it was rare for a marriage to take place before the parties were eighteen even with that- in fact, Loreza’s own grandfather, Prince Garris, had been the last noble to marry before that age, and even then he had been nearer to seventeen and his bride two years older- it had not yet happened, though it was only a matter of time.

But the fact remained that, although Elia had technically been a woman for over six years, it had not seemed real until today.

Loreza did not worry about whether or not her daughter would take to her new role. She had raised all of her children to rule if the situation called for it even as she prayed that her youngest two would never be fated to rule Dorne, and she knew that they had taken her lessons to heart, little as some foolish outsiders believed her youngest had done so.

Even apart from that, Elia had thrown herself into learning about Great Moraq and their traditions even before they had made so much as a whisper about making a marriage there. She had refused to be seen as a foreign usurper who had no respect for their ways even if she wished to keep some of her own.

From what she could tell, Elia had even risen in the eyes of the women that Lady Mara had brought with her- several cousins, and also several other nobility- when, despite knowing that they would wed in Sunspear’s sept and mostly follow the Dornish marriage celebrations by agreement from both parties, she had asked if they thought she should incorporate some Moraqi traditions still, specifically mentioning something called a henna night, along with a few other things.

Lady Mara had done well to hide her pleased surprise, but a few others hadn’t wiped it from their faces as quick, and the speculative looks her daughter was thrown after that were definitely pleased.

The sultana had admitted that she would have brought up the tradition herself and asked if she wished to have it and that she had even brought materials that could easily be turned into a bindalli dress for her, but made it clear that no one expected her to go through this tradition if she did not wish to. Elia herself had made it clear that if none of them minded or thought that it was not to be done due to where she was from, she would like to.

And so it was that the night before, the women all commandeered the family solar and barred any man from entering. Even the Shadow Guards that followed their sultana wherever she went were left down the hall, and the door guards were both Dornish women- though admittedly that last bit had been Loreza’s own touch rather than anything traditional, at least as far as she knew.

The night had been very pleasant, and Loreza found herself slightly regretful that there was nothing comparable in Dorne. Yes, there was the amusing tradition where the bride and groom were banned from spending the night in each other’s rooms and so, if they so choose, they “secretly” set out to find other accommodations- even Doran and Mellario, despite having already married in a Norvoshi ceremony, crept away to sleep in an unused servant’s room the night before their Dornish ceremony in observance of that custom- but there was nothing like a henna night in their land.

She did have to complain about the songs they sang, however. Apparently in Moraq it was considered to be auspicious if the bride cried during that night, and the traditional song they sang, Yüksek Yüksek Tepeler, had definitely accomplished that. Loreza was far from fluent in Moraqi, much to her shame- she had planned to attempt to gain more fluency in the moons before they arrived, but fate had thrown too many things that had immediately required her attention to have been able to- but the way it was sung she did not need to be fluent. She had a feeling that the words themselves were just as potent, for Elia had certainly understood them yet had cried herself.

The night had not lasted long, for the bride needed all of her strength for her actual ceremony the next day, and many of them had reconvened the next day.

Attending Elia the morning of the wedding was female family from both of the families to be joined, as was traditional. Loreza herself was there and had she been forced to miss it she would have shown terrible wrath on the people to have interrupted her, but she was not the only one. Mellario was there, as was Sarita, Lady Enora- Loreza’s goodsister and Elia’s aunt, wife of Tremond- and Myria. On the Moraqi side there was Lady Mara, Yaren, and a couple more cousins that she regretted not knowing better.

No children were allowed, though if any of them managed to sneak in they would be welcome. Instead, she had delegated entertaining them and getting them ready to Oberyn and Ellaria.

(She felt slightly guilty about that. She didn’t know if Ellaria had been anywhere near as mischievous a child to deserve that fate.

Her youngest son, on the other hand, definitely did. Most of the gray in her hair could be traced back to him and Elia… yes, he could deal with readying all five of those little snakes as payment.)

She had given Doran full authority to deal with any issues that came up, and Lewyn and Sylvia had both chosen to make certain that things were running smoothly with the ceremony and celebrations, so she could just sit back and help her daughter ready herself for what may be the most important day of her life.

Elia’s wedding lehenga was a thing of beauty. Loreza would fully admit to being biased as this was her own daughter, but she believed there had never been a more beautiful bride, and her outfit definitely reflected it.

The lehenga was primarily gold and made out of the finest silks, as Elia had said she wished it to be to honor her father moons ago, but the embroidery was in Martell orange with some red thread, depicting stylized suns and spears.

Elia’s hair was left down, but after her bath Enora had insisted on brushing it so many times that everyone had started to think it was too much, but her curls were behaving so it was debatably worth it even though it had taken far too long. Her hair was styled into braids that met at the back of her head with the rest left loose, but she wore no tiara nor circlet- no, there would be a crown adorning her daughter’s head before the day was out, something Loreza had never expected to see here in her homeland.

Her arms were carefully adorned with bracelets that she recognized to be presents from her brothers over the years, and Loreza pushed everyone else away to place Nymeria’s necklace upon her daughters neck herself.

They were about to go through her earrings to decide which she wanted to wear during this occasion when Lady Mara stepped up with a small box. “If it pleases you, my soon to be daughter, I brought these as a gift for you and I believe they would work well with your outfit.”

The sultana opened the box to reveal two earrings, made up of a ruby sun and a silver moon entwined together.

Lady Mara was correct; the silver did not detract from the rest of the outfit. In fact, it called more attention to her face, which except for some red kohl around her eyes was left bare. It did make one wonder though; would the crown have silver in it? No one in Dorne had seen it as of yet as far as she knew, but the sultana had to have.

Elia was physically ready, and as Loreza glanced out of the window she saw that there was not much time before the ceremony. As a result, she used her authority as Princess of Dorne to order everyone but her and Elia herself out, telling them to go ahead to the sept to get in place for the ceremony. They all went without complaint, though Lady Mara gave them a slightly bemused look as she left, no doubt understanding exactly why she wished for them to leave.

That left Loreza alone with her only daughter.

She sighed, smiling bittersweetly at her daughter. “Elia, there has never been a more beautiful bride, I swear to you.”

Elia blushed at that, looking away. “Mama, you are biased.”

“Perhaps, but I do not believe I am telling a lie.”

While speaking, Loreza took her daughter’s hands and moved them to a chaise. “Doran shall be here soon to take you to the sept, but I wish to talk to you first,” she said, pushing down the slight grief that arose knowing that her son would have to step in for Maron. She knew he was watching from the afterlife and was no doubt having to hide how he was tearing up from everyone that happened to cross his path, for while some said that her husband was a harsh man, she knew that he loved his family well, and had never hesitated to spend time with their children as a father should. He would not wish for his physical absence to pain any of them.

Elia bit her lip, but still responded somewhat snarkily, “Is it about what happens on the wedding night? Because I assure you-“

“My sweet, if you have made it this long without knowing what happens between the sheets I have to ask where you have grown up for it was not in Sunspear,” she replied dryly. “No, I just wish to talk to you and make certain everything is okay.” She took in a deep breath before she squeezed her hands and asked, “Tell me truthfully: are you at all fearful of what is to come?”

Elia paused at that, biting her lip. Loreza waited patiently, knowing that pressing her would not help anything.

After a couple of minutes, her daughter sighed and squeezed her hands. “I am still wary of being a sultana. I worry about whether I will be a good one, for though you taught me how to rule in case the worst happened, Dorne is not Great Moraq. I do worry about making some mistake that will hound me the rest of my days.

“But no, I do not fear. Everyone I have met so far has been kind to me, and has been more than willing to help me. And Mehmed… I won’t be like my brothers and claim to love him after so short a time knowing him in person, but I already consider him a friend, and I hope that one day we will be more, like you and papa were.”

Loreza smiled at her, reaching up and cupping her cheek. “I know you will, my bright sun of Dorne,” she whispered, leaning over and kissing her on the forehead, just as she had countless times during her life.

Elia smiled at her before leaning forward and initiating a hug. “Mama, can you sing to me? One last time?” she whispered, suddenly sounding like the little girl who always ran to her or her father whenever something startled her, always knowing that they would fix it and comfort her.

Loreza sucked in a deep breath to steady herself, but softly sang a Rhoynish lullaby, this one about how Mother Rhoyne would always shelter her children from harm and lead them to where the path they were destined to follow if only they had faith and followed the currents of the river.

Neither of them cried, not at this time for they did not want that to be how they entered the sept, but they both keenly felt this moment, knowing there would likely never again be one the same.

Even after the song ended, they held each other for several minutes longer, neither wanting to let go. But all things came to an end, and they finally released each other when there was a knock at the door.

Loreza sighed, knowing who it was but reluctant to let go. She must though, for she knew that Elia herself would not thank her for it. So she squeezed her daughter’s hands one last time and kissed her on the forehead before standing up, brushing off her skirts in a nervous movement she couldn’t stop herself from making, and reluctantly opening the door.

As expected, it was Doran that had knocked, and he gave a quick bow to her that she fondly shook her head at. They did not hold to such formalities in this family, but he no doubt was feeling many of the same emotions that she did as was trying to hide it.

After a few more words, Loreza left them and headed back down to the sept, arriving through a side door for the front of the sept was so clogged with people that she no doubt would have a hard time getting through. To her surprise, there were near as many of the people from the Shadow City or even from as far as the Greenblood waiting to catch a glimpse of the couple as there had been at Doran’s own marriage. Perhaps it should not be that surprising. It _was_ the first time in quite awhile that a Martell that was to leave Dorne after marrying a foreign royal like this in Sunspear. In fact, she could not quite remember the last time this had happened- was it the younger brother of the Ruling Princess Mara that married a Princess of the Summer Isles near two hundred years ago? She could not remember where they had married. Either way, it was not in living memory.

She was pleased to find that everything in the sept was just as it should be. All of the people that were invited in were either sitting or standing in the back, and she took a vicious pleasure in seeing how they had succeeded in making the Yronwoods sit as far back as they could make them without causing a full-blown diplomatic incident.

It did not take her long to sit with her own family in the front, and she received beaming smiles from all of the little snakes and quick hugs from Nym, Arianne, and Tyene.

They did not have to wait long for the ceremony to start, for only a few minutes after she had settled down and was listening to Arianne chatter about how pretty everything was and how she and Tyene were already planning their own weddings (something that Oberyn looked highly amused about but that Doran would no doubt find terrifying because they all knew that Arianne would actually have to marry one day unlike Tyene) the front doors opened to reveal Doran escorting Elia into the sept.

Loreza was correct. Elia was truly the most beautiful bride Sunspear had ever seen, and shone as brightly as the sun ever did.

Doran left the alter after guiding his sister’s hand into her soon to be husband’s, coming over to sit between Loreza and Mellario. Immediately after he sat down, Arianne squirmed out of her mother’s lap and plopped down on her father’s, beaming at him and receiving a smile in return. Mellario for her part just looked amused, for she herself teased her husband on how much of a doting father he was as often as she could.

Loreza relaxed further once the ceremony started and it was clear that this septon would not drag things out. Good. Shortly after they had declared their independence, she had a very lovely talk with this septon where they had discussed many different things. At one point, they had happened to go off on a tangent about what had happened to the last septons that had thought it would be prudent to give their loyalty to those in King’s Landing rather than to the Dornish people and helped enable what the damned dragons attempted to do to Dorne.

It was good to find that he was willing to listen and simply chose to be the premier authority for Dorne’s version of the Faith of the Seven rather than be a fool and attempt to play at politics, unlike some others she had known.

The ceremony concluded with the traditional kiss, but that was not what Loreza was waiting for. Sultan Mehmed gestured for a servant to come forward with the crown, no doubt to the surprise of many in the audience for they had kept this crowning a secret to those not in the family.

Loreza had assumed that, as was common for consorts in Westeros (even in Dorne, at least if the consort married a current ruler- if they were being crowned together neither bowed, just as it had been since Nymeria and Mors themselves), her daughter would kneel and be crowned that way, but to her surprise her daughter’s motion was stopped by her new husband, and the now Sultana Elia was crowned by her husband while standing tall and proud.

That was what finally made a few tears escape from Loreza’s eyes. Yes, a husband who would crown his wife that way was one that she was grateful her daughter had, for it was the one she had prayed her daughter would have.

Until the end of her life she would always wish that her daughter was closer to her, but it was always tempered by the knowledge that she was happy, that she had a husband worthy of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't remember if I've mentioned it in this fic, but I really like to imagine that Dorne customarily marries older, and I also really like to imagine that they actually have laws in place preventing marriages too young.
> 
> I would suggest you look up what a Henna night is, I found it interesting. I wanted to actually write it out, but let's just say I couldn't do it to my liking. At the very least go look up the song. And then look up the translation. And then remember what happens to Elia in canon and what she would have had to be feeling. And then start crying like I did.
> 
> Loreza shouldn't feel guilty for Ellaria. She wasn't as bad as Oberyn and Elia, but she still made mischief while growing up.
> 
> For what it's worth, I'm not sure if Tyene will ever marry. Sarella might depending on how big of a library a prospective husband might, while Nym might find a guy that adores her and manages to worm his way into her heart, though she could just as easily find a woman to take as a paramour. Meanwhile Obara won't. She just won't. You can't make her.  
> If she doesn't marry though, Tyene would live vicariously through Arianne's ceremony. Her cousin that's almost her twin because of how close they are deserves the best!
> 
> Am I the only one that finds the fact that there's not explicitly regional variations of the Faith of the Seven really weird? Like I won't get into it, but seriously I don't understand...
> 
> Anyway, I hoped I captured Loreza's bittersweet feelings correctly.
> 
> Also, it might be a little weird that we haven't seen Mehmed's thoughts yet, but don't worry, that will happen in only a couple of chapters. It worked best for pacing to put it off.
> 
> Next chapter: Rhaella would like to be able to take a vacation without feeling guilty, please and thank you.


	25. Information and Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaella believes she has joined a club of people that long for a vacation. She at least needs and deserves one...

**King’s Landing**

Rhaella’s first reaction upon receiving the invitation to join Lords Tywin and Lucerys Velaryon for tea was amusement, for she had to do her best to keep herself from giggling at the image of Tywin Lannister sipping daintily from a cup of tea and inquiring about the same kinds of pleasant nothings women of the court loved to speak of during those meetings.

(She regretted the fact that she had been kept from carrying out the duties a Queen should carry out. She did not at all miss having to entertain some of those noble women.)

Her second reaction was genuine pleasure, for as clear as she had made it to Tywin that she was done standing back and being powerless she had not expected something like this, or at least not this early into her son’s reign before she had made it even clear that she would not be kept in the dark any longer.

Although… the Hand of the King was hurting for actual allies at the moment, wasn’t he?

Lucerys Velaryon was quite possibly the only member of the Small Council whose loyalties he could actually count on. While they more than likely did not see eye to eye on everything, the Velaryons were loyal to the Targaryen dynasty and did not want to see them fall, and thus the Master of Ships was likely to support some of his decisions, which was no doubt something he appreciated about him.

Unfortunately for Tywin, could not be said for the other members. Lords Chelsted and Staunton, Masters of Coin and Law respectfully, were obviously the former king’s lackies, and no doubt were feeling the loss of status after that man’s death. They would no doubt be floundering to keep their positions and hope that Rhaegar would keep them on his Small Council for their services to his sire, which Rhaella herself doubted would happen. If there was one thing that she knew her son did not wish for, it was to be seen to be the same as his sire.

The Kingsguard, as she well knew, was loyal to the king and only the king. She doubted Tywin was foolish enough to miss that.

And as for Pycelle… well, when things calmed down, she had a feeling that he would find himself imprisoned for breaking his master vows. Tywin had not been pleased that he sent the letter that started all of this several hours before alerting him, and the man did not forget any slights. She would not miss him. While he had some sort of self-preservation and had never turned his _attentions_ to her, he had still harmed other women and she did not take that lightly.

So while Rhaella was still slightly surprised, it was not as much as one would expect after she had thought about it. She had made it clear that she would work with him to keep their reign afloat and he no doubt was slightly desperate at this point, little as he would let on to that fact.

Not to mention that things were quite possibly more desperate than before, for Rhaegar had finally deigned to appear at a meeting of the Small Council this morning…

For a long moment, she seriously thought about having a glass of wine before having to deal with whatever happened, but unfortunately realized it would be better to be completely sober for this meeting, so she simply steeled herself for what may happen and made her way towards the Tower of the Hand.

The location was both a good and bad thing, as everyone that worked in that tower was loyal to the Lannisters- or rather, loyal to the Lord of Casterly Rock, the Warden of the West. Bad because, again, loyal only to Lord Tywin, but good because she would rather deal with Tywin than Varys. She knew what Tywin’s motives and goals were, after all, and so she was more comfortable around him.

When she got there, both men stood up and nodded their heads at her in respect. “Queen Rhaella.”

“Lord Tywin, Lord Lucerys,” she replied, inclining her head at them in return before sitting down and gladly taking some tea for herself. She would no doubt be needing it.

After a few moments where they all made themselves comfortable, Rhaella decided to start by asking, “Is there any good news from this council meeting you had this morning we can start with?”

“It may be only a matter of degree as now the roles must be filled, which could be… _interesting_ ,” Lucerys answered, taking a sip of his own drink, “but the King has relieved Lords Chelsted and Staunton of their positions on the Small Council.”

_That_ was more than she had expected to happen today. “Oh?”

“Yes. They made much of their work with the previous ruler, which the King… did not appreciate.”

Well. At least the fact that her son had such a reaction to that seemed to be a good sign for the future. Getting rid of that man’s lackies was something she personally believed to be a priority, after all.

Rhaella sighed, taking a sip of her tea. “Has he said whether he has people in mind to take up the positions yet?”

Tywin shook his head. “He has not. And I intend to suggest a few acceptable options to him myself at the next opportunity.”

His tone revealed that he did not have much hope that he would be successful. Considering how the former king spit upon any and all of his suggestions, the feeling was understandable, if unfortunate.

“Who were you planning to suggest, if I may ask?” she asked out of simple curiosity.

“Lord Stark was one.”

Rhaella nodded, pleased. “He will likely not wish to leave the North, but the mere offer would be an honor they could not deny a reply to.”

A pleased look entered Tywin’s eyes for a brief moment. He must be desperate to speak to someone with a brain. “I have also set a few people to the task of finding someone from the Reach that is not Mace Tyrell.”

She couldn’t stop herself from snorting at that. Even she had heard of the infamous Mace Tyrell and fully agreed with not wanting him in King’s Landing. “Perhaps we can ask his mother, the Lady Olenna? The scandal may help us get work done in peace and she certainly has no qualms about speaking her mind from everything I have heard of her.”

That got Lucerys to laugh, and even the corner of Tywin’s lip twitched the slightest bit at the idea. “Tempting, for sure.”

Well, Rhaella certainly thought it was tempting. Unfortunately, certain men would see the Queen of Thorns being asked to join the Small Council as a slight, so unfortunately it would likely not happen, much as it would be a breath of fresh air they sorely needed.

The levity her suggestion brought did not last as long as she would like, and so after a moment she sighed and, knowing that they would know exactly what she meant with the question, asked, “What else did he do?”

The two men glanced at each other as if to debate about who had to say it. Lucerys seemingly lost whatever debate they had, as he sighed and said, “The King believes that he should go to Dorne to negotiate. Personally.”

Rhaella stared at them, hoping that this was a joke, but unfortunately both of them looked as grim as before, no indications of that statement being a joke on their faces. So she did the only thing she could do: groan, bury her head in her hands, and wonder where she went wrong with raising him yet again. Perhaps she should have paid more attention to the nursemaids who had been responsible for him and found a way to dismiss them…

“It would be quite unfortunate to lose another king so soon, especially when previous experiences have shown how foolish it would be.”

“I’m not even worried about the Dornish killing him,” Rhaella replied, not even taking her face out of her hands to look up at Tywin after he said that, “I am worried about him making our situation _worse_ if he personally tries to negotiate.”

She could sense their slightly puzzled looks, but refused to elaborate. For now, she would keep Rhaegar’s obsession with his damned prophecies to herself in hopes that he would see the light soon. They no doubt did not have high opinions of him already, and revealing something like that so soon had the ability to ruin things entirely. No, she would give him one more chance in hopes that he listened to her.

She sighed again, finally looking up. “Has he listened to your arguments against it at all?”

“He said that the meeting was running long and we can reconvene to discuss the matter further another day.”

Yet another sigh. Was it too much to ask, that her son not be this difficult?

Rhaella tapped her fingers on her cup, thinking. As she said, she did not believe that Rhaegar would die should he go to Dorne- or at least, not unless he asked for it, something she hoped he would never do for that would truly mean he was beyond saving. No, she was worried about him making their relationship with Dorne even worse than it was. If he persisted in trying to get them to believe in a damned _prophecy,_ something she knew for a fact that Loreza herself would be displeased about to say the least, something that would no doubt be shared by the rest of the Dornish…

She paused, a possible solution coming to mind. If it was somewhat selfish… well, it was also rooted in her wish to help fix the situation they found themselves in, she assured herself of that much.

Rhaella looked at both of the men in the room. “If he believes that a representative of the Targaryen family should negotiate, one possible solution would be to send me.”

Both of them had stunned yet wary looks on their faces. After a moment, Lucerys cleared his throat and asked, “Your grace, it is kind of you to offer, but after what the previous king did, I do not believe it would be wise to send his widow.”

“At my request, I saw for myself a copy of the letter the Princess of Dorne sent detailing of why they chose to break away from the rest of Westeros,” she said, looking levelly at him. “She compared what he wanted Princess Elia to endure to how he treated me. No doubt that is as much common knowledge in Dorne as it is elsewhere on this continent. No doubt that they shall believe I have no love for him and disagree with his actions. While they may not see it as grand a gesture as if Rhaegar came and begged for forgiveness, my presence shall at least show them that we are serious about showing how the regime has changed.”

It was ironic. She had been named in honor of her Aunt Rhaelle. The same woman who had been forced to pay the price of her older brother’s actions even though she had nothing to do with them and had wished for things to have turned out differently, that she had been given more of a choice in her fate. The only difference was that Rhaella was willingly taking these actions upon herself rather than being forced to by the men in her life.

Perhaps her own parents had known what they were doing when they named her, though she doubted it. They had assumed that she and her own brother would have a happy marriage simply because they had been _prophesied_ by a woman with every reason to lie or mislead to bring about a line of heroes, because they themselves had been so in love that they saw no issue with breaking their own betrothals despite the thousands that had died when the Stormlands had taken umbrage to Duncan throwing Joycelyn Baratheon away like trash.

As much anger she still held towards most of the rest of her family for what they did to her, even what she felt towards Aerys himself was _nothing_ compared to the emotions she held towards her parents. She almost could not wait to see them in the afterlife, to watch how they try and fail to justify the life they forced upon her.

Lucerys looked surprised for a brief moment, but it quickly morphed into a pleased expression. Tywin, however, stared at her suspiciously. “The fact that you were friends with their ruler has nothing to do with your decision.”

Rhaella stared at him levelly, refusing to look away from the hard look in his eyes. “The Princess of Dorne herself once offered herself as one of my ladies for a year, allowing her husband and brother to carry out the day to day running of their lands while she was here. I learned much of how Dorne works from her, so I would believe I am better able to know what could make things worse than some other people we could send. And yes, I was friends with Princess Loreza.” _I still am. She sent a letter to me after that man’s death, apologizing for not being able to rejoice in my freedom with me in person and for the fact that we may never be able to see each other again depending on how things go._ “If she still feels anything towards me, wouldn’t that only be an advantage for us?”

He did well to hide it, but she still saw the grudging agreeance, respect, and even some slight admiration in Tywin’s eyes. She knew that they would never truly like each other, at least not to the point of being friends (especially as she doubted that Tywin truly knew what a friend even was- Joanna had likely been the closest he had ever had, and she had been that and so much more), but the more she talked to him the more she believed that they could truly be allies.

The Hand of the King inclined his head in acceptance of her words. “If needed, would you be willing to appear before the Council and explain your reasoning?”

“I would.”

“It is settled then. Next time the Council meets, we will bring your suggestion to the King.”

Their meeting broke up soon after that. To her surprise, Lucerys offered to escort her most of the way back to the royal family’s apartments as he had some matters to take care of in that direction. She accepted, finding that she enjoyed talking to him more than she had expected. He had mostly interacted with Aerys, Steffon, and Tywin when they were younger, and she had not had the luxury of speaking to men that she was not related to much over these past several years.

He had even extended an offer for her to visit Driftmark once things calmed down, something that she would gladly keep in mind. She longed to permanently move to Dragonstone or elsewhere and only return to King’s Landing for formal occasions, if only for the actual fresh air untainted by the stench of the capitol they would likely have, but she could not allow herself that. Not until Rhaegar married and his chosen Queen settled into her new role, which could be as much as two years if Tywin got what he wished.

When Rhaella returned to her rooms (which were smaller than the ones she had before, but were free from those terrible memories so she did not care even one single bit), she found Amista waiting for her. Once the door closed behind her and she received the covert signal that they were alone, she asked, “Have you learned exactly what happened during the Small Council meeting?”

Her handmaid and friend smiled. “Yes. They should stop believing that servants never talk when asked nicely, shouldn’t they?”

Rhaella smiled. Amista was correct. So many people underestimated the people below them to their peril. She had been nice to the servants who were allowed to see her, and sympathy and pity- little as she liked that particular emotion- had made them even more willing to give her information she needed. It was not exact as nothing ever was, but it was much better than what others likely got.

The exact circumstances behind what got those two obvious lackies of the previous king kicked off the Small Council was about what she expected, though she was filled with further relief that Rhaegar visibly disowned his sire. She was still very worried about what kind of king he would be, but at the very least it did seem to be the type his predecessor was.

There was another thing that worried her, however, though it was not related to the Small Council meeting. Amista had seen him leaving Arthur Dayne’s quarters. Yes, he had finally visited the person he seemingly considered a friend. Said visit did not seem to have ended the way he had no doubt hoped, however, as he had left with horror and guilt written all over his being.

A part of her wanted to go and comfort her son just as she had countless times over the years, but she could not allow herself to. Her son needed to grow up, and could not be coddled any longer.

Rhaegar needed to learn how to be a King, and she could not help him with that. It was something that he could only learn by himself.

All she could do was hope he learned how to soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucerys Velaryon was the Master of Ships during Aerys' reign and somehow related to Monford and his half brother Aurane, who are seen in the present day of the books. I'm just going to assume he's their dad like others do, though why that couldn't be explicitly stated is beyond me...
> 
> Qarlton Chelsted and Symond Staunton were indeed Masters of Coin and Law during Aerys' reign, and were indeed his supporters. They both helped inflame his paranoia over the whole Tourney of Harrenhal situation. (I will say that Chelsted at least did show a brief moment of bravery when, as Hand, he spoke against the wildfire plot, more than likely knowing he would die for it. Still doesn't mean he should be in the council...)
> 
> I will also say that I fully believe Rhaegar doesn't like his father and definitely doesn't want to be him. That's part of why I believe that the situation with Lyanna was consensual on her part- at least at first. Getting locked up in a tower after her father and brother died for her might have changed things just a little bit, though by then it was far too late and she may have already been pregnant by that point.
> 
> Also, as disappointed as she is in Rhaegar, Rhaella does know that ranting about how be believes in a prophecy would make everything worse. Time will tell whether or not she breaks the silence, and if she does, to who.
> 
> Rhaella also has words she wants to have with her parents. Like she says, at the heart of it, everything she has suffered in her marriage has been their fault, for they forced her and Aerys into it. She's not in any hurry to have that conversation, but to her it is something to look forward to in the next life.
> 
> Rhaella's network of spies is a thousand times better than Varys', I want you guys to know that. 
> 
> Next chapter: The festivities in Dorne begin and we actually get to see Mehmed's thoughts on everything!


	26. Songs and Legacies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Millennium festival begins, and Elia has hopes that things will grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to call out Mehmed for being extremely difficult to write and making me restart three times before giving up and switching to Elia.
> 
> Not that I don't like where this chapter went, but it also ended up going differently than I planned.

**Sunspear**

It had not been quite a fortnight since their ceremony, but thus far Elia had no complaints about married life.

She hoped her husband was appreciative of that fact, for both of her brothers had made clear that they would take matters into their own hands if she said she was unsatisfied.

(That included sexually. She had expected Oberyn to ask about that as she had witnessed more than a few rants about his feeling on men that didn’t bother to care about their partners over the years, but Doran had also brought it up on his own accord, his tone telling her that he would not accept her dodging the question this time. She flat out refused to give any details, but thankfully they didn’t want any and were satisfied by her very exasperated assurances that she was well pleased in that area. She loved her brothers and could not describe in words how happy she was that they cared for her so much, but how she wished that they would just leave things alone sometimes…)

The time they spent in bed aside, Elia greatly appreciated learning more about her husband, and through the long conversations they had whenever they had the time she did firmly feel that they were good friends, just as she had thought they were before they had spoken their vows to each other, and her hopes that more would come increased even further.

It was not only Mehmed that Elia spent time with. She spent quite a bit of time talking with Lady Mara, who was more than happy to discuss what her role would be with her, though she also stated that there were some things she would have to learn for herself. Her own mother echoed that advice, telling of how her own predecessor had taught her how to rule practically from the moment she was born, but when the time came for her to sit on the Sunchair herself she had found she still had so much to learn.

She also spent some time with her multitude of nieces and one nephew-cousin. She knew that it would likely be quite awhile before she could see them again- Oberyn said he was going to visit soon, but she had a sneaking suspicion that Ellaria would get pregnant before they could arrange a visit and delay things, and it would likely be quite awhile before Arianne or Ovid’s parents managed to get time to visit- and so made certain that she could play with them as often as she could while she was still here.

She did feel slightly guilty about it though; her family would likely have to deal with more than a few bouts of crying and tantrums when she finally left, and she winced even thinking about it. Arianne had a very healthy set of lungs that she was very willing to use, and while the rest were quieter, she still did not envy her family and had no idea how to help alleviate that.

(Well, she could take the little sand snakes with her, but Tyene would tell Ellaria because she would assume that her mama would be coming with her and then everyone would thwart her plans, so that was sadly out.)

A little under a fortnight after their wedding, Elia had gotten up and was brushing her hair and ignoring her husband staring at her when he asked, “The celebrations start tonight, correct?”

“Yes,” she replied, turning to face him and rolling her eyes at the somewhat lazy way he was sprawled out on the bed while watching her. Sometimes it was clear how he and Oberyn were friends. “There will be four days of celebration, though today won’t be a full day unlike the next three, as it has become tradition to start most of our celebrations at high tide, and that will not happen until near an hour before sunset.”

“Was that a tradition in Dorne before the Rhoynar came, or after?”

Elia paused, staring at him in surprise. She had never heard anyone asking a question like that before. She thought for a minute while biting her lip, but eventually had to admit, “I’m not sure. It is extremely hard sometimes to separate what was traditional before Princess Nymeria arrived and what came after. Despite the shameful actions of certain rulers that have no doubt gotten what they deserve in the afterlife, the Rhoynar did not assimilate into the culture of those living in Dorne before, so much as they blended together.

“Although,” she said, brightening at his genuine interest in her explanations, “there is a religious explanation for the custom now. Those that follow Mother Rhoyne say that high tide is when her presence is felt most here in Dorne, and it is considered an auspicious time to start things. The only exception to that is marriages, for if you have a Rhoynish ceremony it will always start at sunrise to signify the start of the newly married couple’s life together.”

“Was it always planned for Oberyn to marry on the last day then, and as such your mother had somehow always planned for him falling for Ellaria?”

She snorted, rolling her eyes yet again. “No, that was just a happy coincidence. Mother did not even think of letting them marry then until our aunt suggested it in a letter, though she more than likely leaped at the chance to get them married before either of them manage to get cold feet. No, there was always planned to be a ceremony honoring Mother Rhoyne that day, and it was always planned to be at sunrise. Every year we hold a festival celebrating the Rhoynar coming to Dorne and how House Nymeros Martell was formed, and it always starts at sunrise, regardless of what tide it is, for that is when Nymeria of the Rhoyne and Mors Martell married.”

Mehmed hummed at that, and thinking the conversation was over Elia turned back around and continued to brush her hair.

She had thought wrong, for after a moment he asked, “Is the festival usually four days?”

“No,” she replied, forcing back a sigh. Apparently she couldn’t brush her hair without interruptions today. Hopefully it was just a today thing and wouldn’t turn into a thing like some things were for her brothers, like how Oberyn not being able to take a nap without being interrupted most of the time or Doran doing literally anything without Arianne wanting to spend time with him. (Though the latter would probably change a bit as she grew and started learning how to rule, as she was the heir.) “Usually this particular festival is only one day, but considering the milestone this one is it was decided that that would not do, so four days was what was decided.”

She paused again, thinking. “Come to think about it, Mellario wasn’t all that happy with four days as she was the one that has to deal with the logistics, but then she learned that there would not be a full tourney and the bazaars in the Shadow City would mostly sort out their plans on their own, and suddenly she was perfectly fine with it.”

“Tourney?”

“Yes. There was one for Arianne’s first nameday. She did not enjoy having to help plan it. At all. I’m not certain why tourneys are so frustrating to her, as while she can be overwhelmed at times for other things it is usually not to that extent.”

“Some things are like that. One of my cousins despises planning where to have meals. Not even what to serve or seating arrangements, but where they shall take place. I have yet to meet a single person who understands.”

Elia couldn’t help but laugh at that. It seemed that there were so many Han cousins that you could find any type of quirk if you looked. She had to wonder how anyone managed to keep track of them.

The rest of the morning was spent asking him for details about more of his family, for not only did she wish to get to know some of them well, it would only be to her advantage if she arrived knowing more things about her new country and family than one would expect her to.

\---

That evening, as the sun was going down, they went down to the sea outside of Sunspear’s walls. Usually gatherings were in the largest square of the Shadow City or in the palace itself, but not for celebrations like this, when there was such importance put upon what was being celebrated.

The logistics didn’t hurt either. There was more space by the sea than in either of those places, and it was also easier to keep track of things when people were not so packed together as they would be in the square.

They wanted their people to celebrate with them, but they were also not fools.

Most of their people, of both noble and common birth, had already progressed down to the area set aside for celebration that had been carefully set up these past days, but House Nymeros Martell and their most esteemed guests went down last, as their arrival would signify the start of the festivities.

Elia couldn’t stop herself from feeling some grief at this scene. Had she not already married before these festivities, she would walk with her family, in step with Oberyn- and Ellaria if he had still met her then, which she actually suspected he would have, as the Ullers would not have missed these celebrations for anything- and just behind their mother, Doran, and Mellario, all of the little snakelings either walking with their parents or being held. She would have stood right beside them as Princess Loreza spoke to the gathered people, speaking of what they were here to celebrate, of their ancestors’ uniting of Dorne, standing proud as she had been taught to from an early age.

Instead, she stood well behind them with a distance that seemed much further than it was in reality with her husband and goodmother, and while they had been given seats not far from her family in the same area, she was still more than aware of the gap between them.

It was not that she regretted her marriage or even when it took place. When they were first negotiating dates for her wedding ceremony, her mother had privately taken her aside and told her that if she wished she could marry after the celebrations, that there was no shame in waiting longer. She had said no, for she personally did not want to wait that long before marrying.

She did not regret it, but that did not stop her heart from aching upon this final realization that things had changed, that she would never be able to return to the days of her childhood again. She would always be a member of her house in spirit, but for things like this…

Elia knew that she had kept these emotions from crossing her face, not wishing to ruin the night for anyone, but her husband seemed to already know her better than she had expected, for Mehmed quietly took her hand and squeezed it once, causing her to give him a small smile, thankful that he did not seem to find fault with how she felt.

The night passed as planned, with the more casual air that her family had wished for. There would be a more formal ceremony on the actual anniversary, and so things had been arranged for this day to simply be relaxing, to be a promise to their people of how the next three days would go.

After near an hour of mingling with different people and partaking in some of the refreshments- all served by loyal servants to either the Martells or Hans- everyone settled down for the night’s main entertainment.

One thing that they knew for certain had been a tradition for both the Rhoynar and the Dornish before Dorne had been unified was how their festivals always included songs. This was no exception, and Princess Loreza had chosen to have a day specifically for their singers, for they had learned that there were more than a few new ballads and other songs being composed for this anniversary. More than they had expected, in fact. And they had expected a lot…

Not that all of them were going to be sung, oh no. A couple of different groups had taken it upon themselves to judge the songs and choose who gets to present them during the festivities.

Regulating said groups and making certain they would not take advantage of things had been their entire family’s biggest headache in the past few years.

Yes, that included the hours of work that declaring independence had brought them.

Their work had proven to have good results, for the night passed very pleasantly. Many older songs were sung mixed with newer ones that had not been heard before. Most were traditional songs or were based on the unification of Dorne, as one would expect, but they did sneak in a couple songs that were very thinly veiled references to the damned dragons and how terrible most of them were. No one was going to say anything against it though, so who cares?

By the time they were at the penultimate song to be performed this night, the sun had completely disappeared beyond the horizon, only torches and the stars themselves providing light. Considering the final song would be the famous one about Nymeria’s Ten Thousand Ships, the one that was both bittersweet yet hopeful, for while they had been forced from their homes they had, after many trials, found a new home in Dorne.

Elia couldn’t help but smile when she turned her eyes and noticed all of the little snakes of their family curled up together under a couple of blankets by Loreza’s feet, including Obara, who instead of looking annoyed at all of her sisters and cousins insistence on cuddling her, even had her arms around both Tyene and Arianne and was looking at everything with a peaceful expression on her face. They all looked ready to be tucked into bed and fall asleep, but were all far too stubborn to admit it. There were only two more songs to get through at least, so they would hopefully be able to make it.

The penultimate song was new, and one she had heard praised by the few that had heard it even if they gave no details, so she turned her full attention to Adriana, the woman who would be singing this particular ballad. The singer sucked in a deep breath, seeming slightly nervous, but none of said nervousness showed in her voice.

When the song was over, Elia, blinking rapidly to try and keep her sudden tears from escaping her eyes, thought that perhaps this song should have been the final one even if it wasn’t traditional.

The song was about Nymeria and Mors and their marriage, but unlike many others it did not sing of it as some great love from the start.

No, there was no mention of it being love at first sight. Instead, the ballad began with their first meeting, of both of their ambitions- Mors’ wish to change how things were in Dorne, to unite it under his family’s rule, and Nymeria’s wish to give her people a home that they would not be forced to leave once more. It began with their marriage for political reasons, for it was advantageous for all parties involved.

However, the song continued even further, telling of how the more time they spent with each other, the more they found that they liked each other. Friendship came first before romance, but that grew between them, and after only a couple of years, it became almost unthinkable to see them apart, for none who saw them doubted their feelings towards each other.

The song abruptly changed cords when they reached the Third Battle of the Boneway, where Mors was slain in battle. It did not shy away from the sheer amount of grief that Nymeria felt upon his death, for even though she had remarried twice she had always made clear that she would forever grieve her first love, the man that had given her their daughters and welcomed her to her and her people’s new home with open arms.

(It was not mentioned in the song, for it was not about them or their relationship, but many speculated that that was part of why, out of all the different options she had at the time, she had married Ulman Uller three years later. He had lost his own beloved wife around the same time as well, and no doubt they understood each other’s grief.)

Mors’ death and Nymeria’s grief was not where the song ended, however. No, it ended years later when Nymeria held her first grandchild in her arms, a boy that had been named Mors after his grandfather- a Prince that would one day rule Dorne, cementing the legacy they had left.

Elia was not the only one that had to control her tears after the song ended. She saw several other women and more than a few men dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs, and when she looked to the rest of her family, she saw Mellario with her head buried in Doran’s shoulder and her own mother with her head bowed, no doubt thinking of her own much missed consort. Oberyn and Ellaria seemed to be okay, but that might also be because both Tyene and Arianne had started crying and they were softly speaking to them and trying to dry their tears.

Elia started when someone took her hand again, turning to find her husband giving her a soft, comforting look. She smiled back at him, sighing and leaning over to put her head on his shoulder for a minute.

As they waited for the final song to begin, she couldn’t help but pray to her ancestors that, like them, she would one day form the same kind of relationship with her husband that they had, for that was all she wished for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly believe that both Doran and Oberyn would have been more than happy to kill Rhaegar for how he treated Elia, it's just that Aerys was an even worse option and things went to hell soon after Aegon was born and they didn't get a chance unfortunately. Too bad they didn't catch him at the Tower of Joy when he and Lyanna first got there...
> 
> If you're curious, Nym will be crying and hugging Obara who won't admit to tearing up when they see Elia's ship leave. The adults will comfort them and sort that out... and then like five hours later the younger three will start wondering where their aunt is and start sobbing when they finally realize it'll be awhile before they see her again.
> 
> This chapter's alternative summary is "in which I spend way too much time headcanoning stuff" because that's what happened.
> 
> Arianne is a daddy's girl, and she will continue to be that for the rest of her life because in this house we give the Martells happy family dynamics. I will say it won't be perfect- I actually have a (hopefully shorter) sequel in mind focusing on Arianne and we will see a couple arguments- but it will be much better than what happened in canon.
> 
> I actually kind of headcanon that Oberyn and Ellaria did meet at this festival even in canon, they just didn't officially get together until after the Rebellion because of a lot of factors on both sides.
> 
> Honestly if I had the motivation and time, I would 100% write a thing focusing on Nymeria and Mors, but I just don't sadly enough. I'll just continue to have way too many feelings about them.
> 
> Oh, and I really do like to imagine that Nymeria did love Mors above everyone else save for her kids. Her and Ulman was partially political and partially because they were two lonely people who expected nothing from each other but friendship, and while she did genuinely love Davos Dayne it wasn't to the same extent, something she made clear before they married.
> 
> Next chapter: The festivities continue. Oberyn is a little shit, but what else is new?


	27. Old and New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The festivities continue. Oberyn is a little shit. He and Ellaria make a new friend.

**Sunspear**

Oberyn, as a rule, did not like waking up early. He much preferred to sleep in, something that had increased when Ellaria came into his life. Feeling her lay against him, her head pressing against his chest with her arm around him… how had he not met her before? He slept so much better with her here… probably because he wasn’t able to move around near as much. He had a habit of rolling around if no one was in bed with him.

But while he preferred to sleep in, partially as a consequence of how he tended to go to bed late at night, that did not mean he couldn’t get up if properly motivated, and this time he sadly was.

He tried to carefully and quietly detach Ellaria from him, but either she was a very light sleeper or she sensed his extreme reluctance to let go as she stirred, sleepily asking, “Oby? What?”

He kissed her on the forehead before continuing to try and get out of bed without jarring her too much. “It is nothing, my sweet. I just have some things I should do this morning.”

Unfortunately, Ellaria woke faster than he could move, for she stopped him in his tracks by rolling on top of him, trapping him with her body. (Well, trapping in a sense- he could easily dislodge her if he tried, but he would not. He quite liked this position.) She stared at him, mock annoyance in her gaze. “You’re planning to go down to the stables and cheat, aren’t you?”

“No, I was planning on taking a walk in the cool morning air,” Oberyn said in an innocent tone, moving his hands to gently lay on her hips.

She raised an eyebrow at him, leaning up a bit and folding her arms in a way that gave him a very nice view of certain attributes of hers. “Oh? And I was not invited?”

“I would have thought you would want to sleep in.”

“Hmm.” It took everything he had to keep himself from groaning when she shifted, and judging by the subtle smirk on her face she knew that fact. “Would there be anything that I could do to stop you from cheating without inviting me?”

“I fail to see how checking one’s horse counts as cheating, but I am perfectly happy to allow myself to be convinced of that fact,” he said, gently moving one of his hands higher to indicate just how he would like to be convinced.

As one would expect, Ellaria’s smirk grew even wider and she had no qualms about taking up his challenge.

The results were inconclusive, but he was more than willing to concede that she made a very compelling argument.

A couple of hours after they had first awakened, the both of them were down at the stables to check on their horses. This particular day of the celebrations would have different contests. No tourney- probably because of how much Mellario despised planning them and because that would probably add a few more day to the celebrations- but there would be horse races on the sands and other events, including a version of a melee.

Oberyn was admittedly still pouting a bit at being prevented from joining that last event. It had been far too long since he had been allowed to participate in a melee, but for whatever reason, their mother had banned both him and Doran from competing at the same time, and Doran had won the coin toss. Wait… there was probably a reason for that, now that he was thinking about it. The Princess had thrown one to celebrate his coming of age, just as she had for Elia a year before and Doran long before either of them, and the both of them had participated and proceeded to team up and completely annihilate their opponents. She probably just wanted to make things fair, which was unfortunate. It wasn’t their fault their opponents weren’t anywhere near as good as them.

Anyway, in his opinion he had a valid reason to check on his horse so early, even though the sun was still fairly low in the sky and they had time before things would start. He had received this particular horse only a couple of moons ago when he and Ellaria had been betrothed, after all. The Hellholt and other villages around the Brimstone river were famous across all of Dorne and even elsewhere for their horses, even if it would likely never eclipse the infamy they had for being half mad.

As a result, he got a horse because apparently Harmen Uller couldn’t let someone about to join his family have a horse that hadn’t come from them. As the horse Oberyn had been riding before was older and on the cusp of retirement anyway, he had just shrugged and gone along with it even if the Martells had their own horses. He certainly had no complaints about the stubborn stallion he had received, as they had managed to come to an agreement not long after meeting each other.

(Ulwyck had been slightly upset about how fast he had gotten along with said horse, as according to his family he had tried many times and had always been rebuffed. Harmen mocking his brother had not helped with that. He was starting to understand just why Ellaria was so okay with moving more or less permanently to Sunspear; she loved her father and uncle, but they could be quite exasperating to deal with as he was fast realizing. Oh well, they’ll help keep his life interesting and help teach his daughters how to terrify anyone that would be idiotic enough to try and hurt them.)

Unfortunately, they would actually be disqualified for cheating if they went for a ride since they were still setting up the courses, so they were unable to do that. As a result, Oberyn just stretched after finishing, glancing over to Ellaria and gesturing that he’d be outside. She nodded from where she was talking with one of stablehands before returning her attention back to him.

Knowing that it could be awhile, he went back outside and sat against one of the walls, deciding to rest his eyes for a little bit.

Of course, not actually taking a nap did not mean that some higher force wouldn’t count it as a nap just to mess with him, so he obviously had to be interrupted. This time it was by his new goodbrother! Which was odd to think of. He certainly had never thought that this would happen when he first woke up with one of the worst headaches he’d had in his entire life and found out he had somehow drunkenly gotten passage on a ship to Moraq. Not that he was about to complain considering what could have happened had he not…

Wait, these events would be written in history. These events had partially happened because of him going to Great Moraq and pleasing his mother by making important friends. And he had not told anyone but Ellaria (who was the only one that had outright asked how he had gotten passage on the ship; she had found it very amusing) the exact chain of events that led to him going there.

That meant that historians would be bending over backwards trying to figure out exactly how everything had happened and spend far too much time coming up with ridiculous theories on why he had gone.

Oberyn couldn’t stop the evil grin from crossing his face even if he tried, and he didn’t bother to try.

“Dare I ask why you are grinning like that this time?”

“I was simply thinking of how easy it is to mess with historians,” he said easily, opening one eye to look up at his friend.

Mehmed gave him an amused look before leaning against the stable wall next to him. “There are better places to take a nap than the ground.”

“Oh, I’m not napping. I’m waiting for Ellaria to finish talking to one of the stablehands so we can decide what we’re doing between the events today. Why are you here? Shouldn’t you still be in bed with my dear sister?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment. Oberyn opened his eyes and looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Did she already kick you out of bed even though it hasn’t even been a fortnight?”

More silence followed, which he took as an affirmative answer.

Mehmed sighed at the sound of his laughter, but he knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t actually annoyed. “Am I to assume that your entire family is consisted of people who do not enjoy mornings?”

“My Aunt Sylvia enjoys seeing the dawn and forces my uncle to get up at least once a fortnight to watch the sun rise, and her general enthusiasm has made him appreciate mornings,” Oberyn said brightly just to prove him wrong.

Unfortunately, Mehmed knew him too well and decided to just quit before things dragged on too long and thus changed the topic. “I was led to believe that there would be little time between the horse races and the melee.”

“Actually, since I have been deprived from appearing in the melee by my own mother and thus only have to show up before it starts, we would have some time to kill. We haven’t decided whether or not we want to go down to the docks today or dump the girls on family and go tomorrow when all of the bazaars are open.”

“You cannot be at the docks without your daughters? Are you two going to have one final day of fun before your wedding?”

Oberyn snorted. “’Final day of fun?’ I doubt it. Ellaria and I have already agreed to discuss whether or not we want to have fun with others even after. To us, the important thing is ending up together in the same bed at the end of the day, not what we do before that so long as we talk about it.”

That was something the two of them had discussed in depth as soon as they had been betrothed. They had touched on it briefly before, but it was best to come to a complete agreement to prevent their relationship from imploding. In the end, they had decided that they would simply tell each other whether or not they wished to spend some time with another person, or even better, invite the other to come with them and have some fun with others together.

Basically, they had agreed to communicate with each other, which was something they had both been given as advice from family and friends.

“No, while we might do what you’re referring to-“ and if he was honest he would not mind that at all, but they’d decide when they went and not before- “that’s not why we’d go down there.”

“Oh?”

“There are several merchants from the Summer Isles that have come to witness the celebrations,” a very welcome feminine voice cut in to their conversation, “and I wish to talk to some of them.”

Both men turned to see Ellaria walking towards them with a small smile. She sat down next to him, her smile widening when he snuck an arm around her waist. Once they were settled, she continued, “My maternal grandmother is from the Isle of Women, and I spent quite a bit of time visiting her during my childhood. I actually speak their tongue just as well as I do Westerosi, and it would be a pleasure to speak it again.”

“And I am going because she’s insisting that I learn how to speak their language fluently because she wants to introduce me to her at some point,” Oberyn said brightly.

“You’re part Summer Islander?”

“Fourth that, Fourth Lyseni, and Half Dornish, if you wish to put it in simple terms. The reality is more complicated. I believe I may have more Rhoynish blood than anything else- my grandmother is a direct descendent from the Rhoynar that stayed on the Isle of Women instead of continuing on to Dorne with Princess Nymeria after all.”

“Is that common here, to have Essosi blood?”

“More common than having some from the rest of Westeros actually.”

Mehmed hummed at that, looking like he was doing some sort of calculations in his mind yet again. Oberyn, for his part, was somewhat surprised by that. He knew he had mentioned that before.

Then again, it was one thing to hear him say that, and a completely different thing to see proof of it right in front of one’s eyes.

* * *

The rest of the day had passed as pleasurably as they had hoped. Oberyn sadly enough did not win the races, but did make it into the finals and would not at all say anything against the fact that Ellaria won. Her father was practically insufferable after that.

The melee was won not by Doran or Mehmed, who had entered himself, but by a woman named Igrene that hailed from the Greenblood. That had been a very exciting match; it had actually been down to Doran, Mehmed, and said woman, and in the end the Dornishwoman had simply been quicker to evade her opponents and managed to catch the other two unaware.

(Both Oberyn and Ellaria had been more than a little sad to see that she had a permanent partner and would no doubt not wish to experiment. They would have been more than happy to proposition her after that exciting match because of how exciting it had been.)

The rest of the night had also been very pleasurable. A feast had been set out in the same place as the night before, and the night had passed with more music and dancing. They had all had quite a bit of fun twirling the little snakes around the designated dance floor and hearing their delighted laughs and squeals at every movement.

Not everyone seemed to have as much fun as said snakes, sadly enough. Poor Adriana, the singer who had sung the ballad of Nymeria and Mors the night before, was dogged by requests to sing all night. It had gotten to the point where several people had actually had to run interference to let her escape from all of the job offers she had received. (All of which had been in vain; apparently Princess Loreza had heard her sing well before the night before and offered her a position in Sunspear that she had gladly accepted.)

Oberyn and Ellaria had both retired fairly early. The girls were too young to stay up all night after all, and someone had to take them up to bed.

The fact that they had gone a little too far in whispering what they could do to each other in bed had absolutely nothing to do with their decision to go back up to their rooms once they had been tucked into bed.

Anyway, they had woken up bright and very much not early the next morning. They had been up for quite a bit of the night, after all, and had needed their sleep. It wasn’t like anyone had come to get them for whatever reason, not even their little snakelings. (Which was a little bit of a miracle.)

Somehow they had managed to foist all three of their daughters onto other members of their family. It helped that Tyene and Arianne had latched onto each other and Mellario wanted to spend time with her own daughter and was more than happy to take Tyene with her and Doran, and both Uller men had wanted to spend time with Obara and Nym, something he should probably worry about at least a little bit, but considering that they were already terrifying enough without their influence he wasn’t. He already knew that at least a couple of their children together would be fostering at the Hellholt for what should be obvious reasons, and Ellaria herself had turned out just fine and she was directly related to them.

Said woman was visibly in a great mood as they meandered their way through the Shadow City to the docks, stopping and checking anything that caught their eye. Her good mood was infectious, and Oberyn couldn’t stop the small smile he had watching her if he tried, which he didn’t because why should he? Ellaria had spoken fondly of her time with her grandmother and that side of the family, but he hadn’t realized quite how much she had valued that time until now.

It made him make a mental note to find time to visit the Southern Isles as soon as they could. He wanted her to always be this happy.

As soon as they got down to the docks and some of the stalls set up there, Ellaria immediately hailed one of the merchants, who judging by the surprised tone of her voice hadn’t expected someone to great her so suddenly in their native tongue.

The two women talked back and forth for a couple of minutes, speaking fast enough that Oberyn didn’t quite catch most of it.

He did understand enough of what they were talking about that he wasn’t surprised when the two women turned to him, both with smirks on their faces.

“So,” the Summer Islander said in a clear, understandable voice despite her somewhat thick accent, “the Lady Ellaria here tells me you are looking for lessons in my tongue, Prince.”

He smirked himself. He liked bold women, as evidenced by his feelings towards Ellaria herself. “I would not be adverse to that, miss…?”

The woman’s smirk widened even more. “Kaija Qho. Would the two of you like to come aboard? I am more than willing to show you the wares I have brought with me, and we can talk in a more comfortable setting.”

“We would be delighted,” Oberyn replied, a wicked grin on his face as he followed them up the gangplank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The closest this fic has gotten to describing sexy times and it's between Oberyn and Ellaria. The only thing I'm surprised about is the fact it hasn't happened earlier.
> 
> Yeah, the river the Hellholt is on is called Brimstone. Apparently it's a sulfurous river, which I'm a little confused about. Where does the sulfur come from? I'm not an expert on the topic, but seriously I'm not sure if that's technically possible... seriously, even if it's a series with dragons and magic, you have have things make some sense -_-
> 
> I can't see how Oberyn and Ellaria could have lasted over ten years together in canon without communicating given their habits. I'd go as far as to say it would be impossible. And here communicating is even more important because they can't exactly separate as easily as they could in canon because they're actually going to be married.
> 
> Good thing about how we know nothing about Ellaria and her past: I can do whatever I want :D So yeah, Ellaria's grandma is a Southern Islander and lives there. She runs a merchant company, though she's mostly retired and has turned much of the day to day running to family. Her grandpa came from Lys. Ellaria takes after her father's family- in fact she looks quite a bit like her paternal grandmother- but she inherited her grandma's hair and eyes, and I imagine her skin to be darker than Oberyn's, though it is probably lighter than Sarella's will be.  
> (Before you talk about show casting... do I really need to say why I don't want to think about the not!Ellaria the show gave us yet again?)
> 
> Yes, some of the Rhoynar stayed in the Summer Islands rather than continuing on with Nymeria to Dorne. Another group under Druselka actually went back to the Rhoyne at about the same time... where the Valyrians were. You can guess what their probable fate was.
> 
> Three guesses who Kaija ends up being in relation to the Martells and the first two don't count.  
> But seriously, I like to imagine that Oberyn and later Ellaria end up as friends with Sarella's mother even if there's no actual romantic interest between the three of them. Think of it as a sort of "friends with benefits" situation with more emphasis on the "friends" part.
> 
> Next chapter: I spend too much time headcanoning Rhoynish wedding ceremonies!


	28. Blessings of the Rhoyne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which blessings are asked for from Mother Rhoyne, Ellaria talks to her eldest daughter, and Oberyn is a dork in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I went off on this chapter. I didn't expect it to be this long. Let's just consider it to be a birthday gift to myself...

**Sunspear**

There was another feast that night, but with a much more casual atmosphere than the previous nights had held, and it was not anywhere near as large on top of that. There would be a much larger one the next night on the actual millennium anniversary, after all, and they did not wish for this to overshadow that.

There was also the fact that the next day’s events would begin at dawn, and a long, lingering feast that took place after dusk was to no one’s benefit.

As a result, the entire Martell family- or those that would be a part of that family in a matter of hours- retired soon after the desserts had been cleared from the tables.

Doran had asked to speak to Oberyn for a moment before they all retired, while Nym skipped off to say goodnight to her grandmother. Arianne and Tyene had both fallen asleep on the way back to the palace, so Mellario was easily able to take them to the nursery to set them into the crib they insisted on sharing. As Lewyn and Sylvia had taken their own son to their rooms before the rest of them had retired, Ellaria had turned to go to her own rooms and wait for her lover when she felt someone tug on her skirts.

She blinked when she turned to look and saw the eldest of the little snakes looking up at her with the most uncertain look she had ever seen on her face. “Obara?”

Said girl bit her lip for a brief moment before asking, “Can we talk?”

“Always,” Ellaria replied, ushering the girl she already thought of as her own daughter into one of the spare rooms. “What did you wish to talk about?”

Obara looked away, tugging on her own tunic and continuously biting her lip. Ellaria waited patiently, for sleep was far less important than the children and she knew that her lover would agree.

After a couple of minutes, Obara, still looking down at her hands. finally asked in a small voice, “You won’t… You won’t leave us, right?”

Ellaria’s heart ached at the worried tone in her voice. “I won’t,” she said softly, reaching out at taking her small hands- bigger than other children her age she had seen, but still so small compared to her own. “Obara, I could not leave you and your sisters even if I wanted to. I already see you three as my own daughters.”

Obara’s eyes shot up at her. “You do?” she asked in disbelief.

“Yes. I do. I doubt I could love you more if I had given birth to you three myself.”

The little girl stared at her with wide eyes, making her look like exactly what she was- a young girl desperate for love, and trying not to hope for it after the disappointment she had already received from her birth mother. She so often looked so much older than she was, in a way that broke her heart to think about.

Ellaria would never know who initiated the hug that followed her words, but her eldest daughter- for just as she had said, that is what Obara was- clung onto her just as tight as her younger sisters ever did.

She softly hummed a lullaby (hummed, for her singing voice was… not exactly comforting to say the very least) as she stroked the short coppery hair her daughter had, bringing no attention to the occasional sniff that came from the little girl clinging onto her.

After a few minutes, they finally released each other. Ellaria made no comment on Obara’s suspiciously wet eyes, instead smiling at her and cupping her cheek. “My sweet, I believe we should go to bed. We all have a big day tomorrow, and it would not be complete if you were absent.”

Obara nodded, giving her one last quick hug before dashing off to the nursery.

Ellaria was still smiling softly when she walked into their rooms, though she did raise an eyebrow in amusement when she saw Oberyn rearranging a pile of pillows in their solar, a couple of blankets nearby. “I thought that we were finding somewhere else to sleep? Tradition states that the bridal couple cannot spend the night together in their bedchamber.”

Oberyn just grinned at her with that grin she was learning love the sight of. “Ah, but we are not in our bedchamber. We are in our solar.”

She blinked, and then gave him a matching grin. “That is a perfect loophole,” she replied, reaching up and giving him a kiss. “How long have you had that in mind?”

“Since I was fostering at Sandstone when I was eleven and had this tradition explained to me when one Qorgyle cousin got married. I find it sad that I’m apparently the first to have noticed such a wonderful loophole.”

Ellaria laughed again before giving him a kiss and sauntering off to the dressing room to change into a shift and grab a robe, making certain to grab one for her lover before he could find a way to forgo it.

She had no idea how long they slept, though she knew they both slept well regardless of the location and despite the knowledge of what would happen come the dawn.

She had heard many other brides and grooms talk about how nervous they had been before their ceremony, but she did not, though she did not know how she escaped the nervousness that apparently plagued everyone else. Perhaps it was because she knew that not much would change for them personally?

Whatever the reasoning was, they slept peacefully for at least a few hours before the door opened, rousing them both enough to blearily blink at a very surprised Princess of Dorne.

Loreza stared at them in shock for several long moments before shaking her head and saying, “I would have thought you of all people would leap at the chance to have done something ridiculous in keeping with traditions, my son.”

Oberyn just grinned at her while Ellaria tried to hide her giggles. “Why should we do that when there’s a perfect loophole to exploit?”

Loreza blinked at that, but quickly caught onto his meaning and started laughing harder than Ellaria had ever heard her. “I should not be surprised,” she said after several long moments, still shaking with laughter. “I am very glad that I will not have to run all over Sunspear to find you two to sign the papers in a timely matter, so you are allowed this loophole,” she said, grinning at the both of them.

Perhaps it was just the effect of the celebrations, but Ellaria couldn’t help but notice that her very soon to be goodmother suddenly looked years younger than she was. It no doubt would not last long as long as they would wish, as being the Ruling Princess was an unenviable role to those who actually knew how what it entailed, but for this one moment… she was glad that these events were bringing her joy.

They were ushered out of the room as soon as they put on their robes and slippers, not stopping until they reached the Princess’ Solar, where they were met by both Doran Martell and Harmen Uller. Her father immediately rose to envelop her in a tight hug that she returned.

When they broke apart, she and Oberyn were both ushered into the chairs facing the desk. As soon as they were comfortable, the Princess read the marriage contract to be signed.

As Dorne recognized both ceremonies made in the name of the Seven and those made in the name of the Mother Rhoyne, to be legally married you must sign a contract signifying your marriage before an authority- in this case the Princess of Dorne herself, as many noble marriages were as she was in fact the highest authority there was to the Dornish- and with two witnesses- her father and his brother. Said contracts were simple and to the point, reiterating any agreements the two parties to be joined had made without the unnecessary wording that so many people loved to add.

The wording was exactly what had been agreed upon, and as soon as the contract was put in front of them, they both sighed without any hesitation.

Once the witnesses had signed themselves, Oberyn gave her a soft smile that warmed her heart because she could easily see the emotions behind it. She returned the same exact smile before embracing him.

Though she wished she could stay in his embrace for longer, they unfortunately had a schedule they must keep to. After congratulations were spoken, Ellaria was ushered into her new goodmother’s rooms by the woman herself.

Given how Rhoynish ceremonies worked, for the ceremony itself she would not wear a lehenga, though she would put one on for the feasts tonight, for they were celebrating their marriage just as much as they were the anniversary. Both Loreza and Doran had made that clear.

No, for the ceremony itself her goodmother helped her into a sleeveless, simple linen dress, dyed blue as was the traditional color for any marrying in a Rhoynish ceremony to honor the Rhoyne.

Once her dress was on, Loreza sat her down in a chair and combed through her hair before helping her put it all into a simple but firm side braid that laid against her chest, apologizing with a wry twitch of her lips that she could not help do something fancier, for she had never been the hair stylist of the family.

She wore no headdress nor circlet yet. Though some brides wore a headdress that held their hair back and included a gem that hung down their forehead and she had long assumed she would wear one herself, she could not. No, once they had spoken their vows to each other, she would be presented with a circlet of her own, though she did not know exactly what it would look like. Even little Tyene had sworn herself to secrecy on that front.

That did not mean she would wear no other jewelry. When Loreza had brought out a small box and opened it to reveal what it held, she immediately tried to protest. “No, I cannot wear that. I’m not a-“

“You are a descendent of Nymeria of Ny Sar herself, even if not of her direct line,” Loreza cut her off, taking the famed necklace of the first Princess of Dorne out and carefully cradling it in her hands. “It is no different from allowing Mellario to wear it for her wedding, as both of you are marrying into our House. In fact, given what today is, it would not seem right for you not to.”

Ellaria could not deny that logic, and so sighed and nodded, moving her braid aside to help her clasp it around her neck.

Even as much as she did not quite believe she should be wearing it, even she could not deny that something about seeing herself in the mirror with it felt right.

When she was finished staring at herself- for while she had never thought herself ugly, she had not believed that she held this kind of beauty and wondered what she would look like in her lehenga if this was what she looked like in only a plain dress- she turned to her goodmother and embraced her. “Thank you,” she whispered, not knowing exactly what she was thanking her for, but knowing that it was for far more than just this morning.

Loreza seemed to know what she meant, for she returned that embrace before leaning back and taking her hands. “There is nothing to thank me for, Ellaria, for I am proud to call you my daughter.”

Ellaria squeezed her hands back, smiling at her with all of the warm feelings she felt towards her goodmother.

Part of her mourned the fact that her own mother was not here with her or that her beloved grandmother was not able to come, though she had sent her warmest congratulations and included gifts for not only her and her entire family, the little snakes included, but most of her was simply grateful beyond words that this woman had welcomed her with such open arms.

Finally, Loreza helped her put on her cloak. Unlike marriages in a sept, Rhoynish weddings did not hold to the tradition of a man putting a cloak in the colors of his House on his bride’s shoulders. No, she was instead helped into a thick, dark blue cloak, for she would need the warmth it brought both before and after the ceremony.

In return, Ellaria insisted on helping her goodmother put on her crown, for in her eyes it was the least she could do.

Finally prepared, Loreza embraced her one last time before they made their way down to the courtyard. The men of their families and most of their guests had already begun to make their way down to the sea, but that still left most of the women. Elia had apparently gone down with her husband, but she doubted that was due to anything other than the fact that the litters they were taking down were already full, given how all four of the female snakelings enthusiastically greeted her, all of them telling her how pretty she looked.

Ellaria went in one litter with her daughters after Mellario had clasped her hands and given her a warm smile before taking her own daughter and going into the other one with Loreza. She kept up a conversation to keep the little ones from going to sleep, but given how excited they were she doubted it was truly needed. She felt bad for the poor men that were carrying the litter, for Tyene practically bounced with excitement the entire way, and Nym was not much better. Obara stared at both of her sisters with a completely unimpressed look, but she could tell that the eldest of the sand snakes was just as excited.

It did not take long for them to reach their destination. Once there, she opened the curtain to find her lover- her _husband-_ waiting for her with a soft smile on his face. He helped her down, and she took the opportunity to eagerly take in his outfit.

Oberyn tended to wear oranges, reds, and golds most often, and she would fully agree that those were the colors that suited him best. However, she did not believe that the blue tunic he wore suited him ill in any way, shape, or form, and she did not believe she was being that biased. He could likely make a sack of flour look attractive on him, and this was definitely not that.

He was free from most jewelry, for he had freely admitted that, while he was particular about the clothes he wore, he personally thought that wearing too much jewelry just looked tacky. The only piece he wore was his favorite circlet, the one that looked like a snake with the Martell’s sigil in the center.

Once she was on the ground, he helped their daughters out of the litter, and out of the corner of her eyes she saw Doran doing the same for his wife, daughter, and mother.

Loreza led the way down to where the sea met the sands where the rest of their families awaited them. There was both her father and uncle, both of whom were closer than any but the Martells themselves, standing next to Elia and her husband. Her goodsister gave her a bright smile, and if it were not for the fact that the first ceremony honoring Mother Rhoyne was about to start, she had no doubt that she would have run over and embraced them.

As if they had practiced, most of them stopped, though Loreza did not. She paused right before she would walk into the waves, turning to survey the people who had come to watch. It was a far better turnout than Ellaria had expected, though she had not been to one of these ceremonies before sadly enough so she did not know what to compare it to.

She did find herself liking Rhoynish ceremonies though, for they seemed to be much shorter and far less ostentatious than others she knew of.

Once she was assured that she held everyone’s attention, Princess Loreza turned back to the sea, wading in, uncaring of the waves lapping at her skirts. “Our Mother Rhoyne,” she began speaking in Rhoynish in a loud, clear voice, “on this day, just as we have every single year, we thank you for delivering our ancestors from those that would have enslaved us exactly a thousand years before. We wish that we could have stayed on the Rhoyne, on the lands of our ancestors, and we regret that it was not possible.

“We thank you for not turning your back on us despite that, despite the foolish actions of some of our forefathers, who refused to see that you still look out for your children. We thank you for helping us create a land that can prosper, where we can live in freedom, the thing that we long for above all else.”

Once those words were out of her mouth, the Princess of Dorne gestured to her son and heir, who immediately walked forward and presented his mother with a dagger.

Loreza took it, walking forward several more steps before kneeling in the waves and stating, “Mother Rhoyne, I give to you my blood, the blood of the Rhoyne, the blood of Dorne, the home you have provided us with after we were forced from your shores, in hopes that it will reach you.”

With that, she unhesitatingly cut the side of her right hand and plunged it into the sea, completely unflinching even though the salt in the water no doubt stung to say the very least.

That done, she continued, with no hint of pain in her voice, “Mother Rhoyne, we ask you to continue to guide us in the future, to show us the way forward, to give us the strength we need to overcome all of the trials that await us in life. We ask you this, oh mother of all who holds the blood of the Rhoyne in them, the descendants of those who you imparted with your love and strength when they first came to you for aid. We ask for you to continue to bless us with your grace, and we pray that we will never make you abandon us.”

When the final word left her mouth, a large wave suddenly came, drenching Princess Loreza completely.

Everyone stared in shock, though smiles quickly came to many faces, not in the least the Princess herself, who whispered something to the water before standing and walking back to where the family was.

It seemed that Mother Rhoyne truly was listening, even a thousand years later.

While Loreza was drying off, Sarita, her cousin, stepped forward into the sea, a wide smile on her face, no doubt from both what had just happened and what was to come. She had shown nothing but excitement that Ellaria was joining their family, after all.

“Our Mother Rhoyne,” the Orphan of the Greenblood began, still speaking in Rhoynish, “we have one final thing to ask of you this day, and it is to bless the marriage of two of your children, of the partnership that will be formed today between Oberyn Nymeros Martell and Ellaria Uller.”

With those words, she gestured for them to come closer, which they did after giving their cloaks to family, for they would wish for them after their ceremony concluded.

Now followed the part of the ceremony that Ellaria was least looking forward to.

She had unfortunately never been to a Rhoynish wedding ceremony before now. There were a few people who worshipped Mother Rhoyne and the other gods of the Rhoyne along the Brimstone, but nowhere near as many as could be found along the Greenblood and the cities and houses closest to it. As a result, when she had the chance, she went to talk privately to Sarita to get more of an idea of what it would entail, for she would be the one to officiate.

She had known that blood played a part of many Rhoynish ceremonies, for they believed that Mother Rhoyne had given them life when their ancestors had come to her, desperate for shelter, and by shedding some of it they believed that she would notice and take their request for her blessing seriously, and thus was completely unsurprised that wedding ceremonies had that custom.

The only problem was… well, salt water getting in a wound was not enjoyable to say the least. Sarita had correctly guessed at the reason for her displeasure, and admitted that some traditions were more enjoyable in different bodies of water.

Ellaria had long been steeling herself for this since she had learned this, but still had to resist flinching when Sarita’s eldest child, a daughter named Nayara, made a deep but clean cut on the palms of her hands while her mother did the same to Oberyn. She should not have been surprised about how deep it was though; the point was to make it shallow enough not to permanently injure, but still just deep enough for it to scar as a reminder of the vows made.

That done, Nayara returned to where she had been standing with other members of her family, but Sarita lingered for a moment longer, as there were some final words she must say. “Mother Rhoyne, let the words spoken between these two reach you, and may their union be blessed by your grace, that they form a partnership such as the one that you and your own consorts created for your own marriage.”

Once the last word was out of her mouth, she turned to leave them alone in the waves.

As one, they took each other’s hands and knelt in the water, both of them hissing when their hands were submerged in the salt water. Though much sooner than she had expected, the pain dulled to the point where she could not feel it any longer.

Then followed the part of the ceremony that Ellaria appreciated the most.

After the person officiating finished speaking their part, they retreated from the bridal couple, leaving only the two people to be wedded in the shores to say their vows, their words unheard by anyone else except for Mother Rhoyne herself.

Once they were settled, they looked at each other. Ellaria for a moment thought that perhaps she should start while looking at Oberyn’s endearingly nervous face, but before she could he seemed to get his bearings.

“Ellaria, I…” he let out a breath, minutely shaking his head. “I still do not know why you chose me out of all of the other options you had. But I swear to you that I will always treasure you, that I will talk you about the decisions I make, and that I will always come to your bed at the end of the day no matter what, so long as I am welcome… my love.”

Judging by how his eyes widened, Oberyn hadn’t planned what he was going to say at all, and now worried about whether or not he had overstepped, even though he had to know that she felt more than simple friendship for him or they wouldn’t be here.

Oh, how she loved this man, who was so much more than his reputation would lead you to believe.

It took some effort to not reach one of her hands up to cup his face, but Ellaria somehow managed to keep them clasped in his own. In lieu of that, she smiled at him, one that she prayed showed all of what she felt towards him.

“Oberyn, my love,” she began, watching a relieved smile overtake his face at the title she gave him, “I chose you because you are _you._ I do not want anyone else as my husband, for they could not hope to compare to you. I swear to you all of the same things that you have to me, and I also wish to add one more thing: it does not matter to me whether or not I bear any children from my own womb, for we already have three beautiful daughters.”

Ellaria would never know which of them leaned in first, but it did not matter.

The kiss was not as deep as some of the ones they had exchanged before or that they would in the future, but in many ways it was far more intimate than any of those could ever hope to be.

They barely noticed when a wave came up and lapped at their necks, though a part of them still noticed.

Eventually though, all things came to an end, and so they broke apart, spending a long moment just smiling at each other before standing up and walking back to their family.

Ellaria couldn’t help but notice how Tyene was literally bouncing from where she was standing by Mellario with the brightest grin she had ever seen on her face and how Nym and even Obara looked almost as happy as their little sister, but there was one final thing that they must do before they would be allowed to run to them.

After drying themselves off as much as they could and for the moment had finished being very glad that the sun was continuing to climb in the sky and the air was warmer than it had been when they first left the palace, Princess Loreza came forward, smiling as she handed her son a circlet.

Ellaria couldn’t keep her eyes from widening when she saw it. It was not anywhere near as fine as the crowns she had seen Loreza or Elia wear, nor even to the tiaras that Mellario wore, but to her it was no less beautiful. The circlet was thin, yes, but the gold had been crafted into flames that crowned her head, with the center holding the Martell’s sigil.

With the same smile he had held all morning, Oberyn reached up and placed the circlet upon her head to cheers from the assembled crowds.

Tyene seemed to take that as her signal to run forward while shouting “Mama!” and cling onto her skirts, beaming up at her as she lifted her into her arms and kissed her on the forehead. Obara and Nym followed close behind and soon all five of them were enveloped together in a large hug.

Ellaria smiled, closing her eyes and just taking in the warmth that came from this, the warmth that was not just physical.

No, she very much doubted that she would ever regret this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am firmly of the belief that Ellaria considers all of the sand snakes to be her own daughters, and the good thing about her coming into their lives at least four years early is that Obara will admit to appreciating that :D
> 
> Also I headcanon Ellaria cannot sing. I have no idea why. She and Doran can bond over that though, for he might be worse.
> 
> Considering how Dorne seems to be the only place in Westeros that truly has multiple religions recognized and followed (like I have said before I headcanon that most Dornish live on/near the Greenblood, and the Northern variant of the Faith seems to be mostly focused around White Harbor and the vast majority follows the Old Gods), I figured they would have some sort of official way to track marriages regardless of what gods they marry under.
> 
> I'm actually not even sure where I'm getting all of these ideas for the Rhoynish traditions and beliefs. It's just kind of happening, and I'm positive that I'm not getting it from other fanfics because there's not as many focused on them as I'd like >.>
> 
> Also look, if we're supposed to believe that the Red God is real and the Old Gods probably are too, I can still say that Mother Rhoyne is too, dang it!
> 
> Anyway, as you may have noticed, there is now an official final chapter count, meaning that there are only six chapters left. In fact, had Rhaella's part not ended up as big as it has ended up being, there might have only been two chapters left after this one, but I think 34 chapters will tie up the story fairly nicely.
> 
> There will be sequels though! Most likely they'll be shorter, but I have three in mind at the moment: one focusing on this generation of Martells dealing with the fact that they'll get at least four new members in the span of a year/year and a half; one focusing on Rhaella dealing with everything that comes with Rhaegar's marriage; and one focusing on Arianne growing up and coming into her own in this changed world. There will probably be a gap between the end of this and the start of the next in this series though, for I want to start the Rhoynish water magic au first.
> 
> Next chapter: The end of the festivities, and Loreza reflects.


	29. Millennium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loreza reflects and thinks to the future.

**Sunspear**

The ceremonies had gone even better than Loreza had ever dared to hope.

They had predicted the tides to be calm today, but once she had finished her entreaties to Mother Rhoyne…

Her own grandmother, Princess Consort Reza, the woman she had been named after, had quite possibly been the person Loreza had been closest to growing up. Though that place had been claimed by Maron after their marriage, they had still been close, especially after Reza had outlived her own husband and children and Loreza was dealt the grief that came with the children that should have been. When her grandmother had died only a couple of years after Oberyn had been born, she had been devastated, and it had been a blow that for awhile she had wondered if she would ever recover from.

But her beloved abuela had always made time for her. She had let her sit on her lap as a young child and spoken of the tales of Dorne and of the Rhoynar, had taken her down to the Shadow City to see the bazaars as often as their duties had allowed, had brought her to the Greenblood as often as she could to visit their family and their people living there.

Reza had never been the ruling princess, and as a consequence she had learned how to rule from her grandfather and mother, but she had still taught her things that she took to heart.

Loreza prayed to the Seven most often, but she still made entreaties to Mother Rhoyne whenever she was down at the sea or at other bodies of water, for her abuela had been adamant that the goddess of the great river listened to her children no matter where they were.

When she had all but begged Mother Rhoyne to not abandon them this morning and was answered with such a large wave… she would never be able to put into words what that had meant to her, and she had known then that her abuela had been correct.

Perhaps they did not have the Rhoynish water magic any longer, but that did not mean Mother Rhoyne had disappeared from her children’s lives.

And then she had been able to watch her youngest child marry and be blessed the same way.

Once they had returned to the palace and she had changed and was assured that the rest of the family had taken the children in hand and would make certain they would not interrupt the newlyweds, Loreza found herself making the trek down to the crypts, the place where they put memorials for their ancestors, torch in hand. There was someone she wished to share the news with, even though she already knew he had been watching.

It was not long before she stopped in front of one of the newest memorials. Placing the torch in a convenient holder, she knelt down in front of the urn holding her consort’s ashes.

Ironically, the Rhoynar and the Valyrians had one single similarity that they would admit to: they both cremated their dead. The Rhoynar, however, had actually scattered the ashes along the Rhoyne to return the deceased to their Mother, something that had become custom in Dorne when they came. When the Rhoynar still lived on the Rhoyne, they laid their dead on simple rafts, setting them alight before pushing them further out on the river. (It amused Loreza that the Riverlands had no Rhoynish influence and yet they had a similar custom. Perhaps it just had something to do with rivers.)

When they came to Dorne, though the Orphans of the Greenblood and even some others still followed that custom, things had changed slightly. They still cremated their dead, but they instead did it elsewhere before collecting the ashes in an urn and scattering them in the closest body of water. (Or in the case of Sandstone, which was situated on an oasis, a funeral procession instead made a trek to either the sea to the south or the Brimstone to the west.) That had also started a new tradition: when one part of a pair died before the other, if they wished for it, they would wait for the other to die before placing their ashes in the same urn and scattering them together. Even some of the Orphans had adopted that idea while combining it with the traditional rafts.

Loreza traced her fingers along the incomplete carved stone portrait of Maron Gargalen placed in front of the urn, one that would not be completed until she died and her ashes were joined with her husband’s. “My love,” she whispered, bowing her head.

She did not come down here often. When Maron had sickened and they realized that he did not have much time left, he had made her swear not to spend forever grieving him, to live for their children and Dorne itself. He had never wished for her to spend hours down here mourning him, and though they both knew that it was not in her nature, he had wished for her to assure him that she would not.

Still tracing her fingers along the carved lines of his face, she gave a small smile. “I know you have been watching from the Heavens, but I still wish to tell you now: our youngest married today. Oh, how we both speculated that this day would never come, for even before you departed we knew he was already such a rascal. You would love Ellaria though; she is gentle, yes, but is still made of pure steel. The fact that all of our granddaughters adore her proves that. They seem to all be excellent judges of character, just as their father is.”

She couldn’t stop her laughter at the memories that arose if she tried. She remembered that one time when Oberyn was but four years old and met the new stablemaster, and had immediately declared he didn’t like him because he was a jerk (only he did not use the word jerk) and ran off, only very reluctantly and very insincerely apologizing when Maron had forced him to. He had been proven right but a few months later, for the stablemaster’s wife had come barging into the audience chamber one day when she was holding court, all but demanding that they take care of him before he hurt her children again.

Since then, while they had been forced to admonish him many times about how he should not do that, they had kept an eye to see his impressions of someone. Just so long as he didn’t cause yet another incident, she saw no real issue with it.

After her laughter died down, she looked back up at his memorial with the same watery smile she always had when she came down here. Tracing his face once more, she said softly, “Our children will thrive, Maron. They have people looking out for them, people that they will grow to love if they do not already, as I know Doran has and suspect Oberyn already has.”

Above all else, all they had ever wanted in their lives was for their children to thrive.

With those words, Loreza stood back up, taking a brief moment to regain her bearings for she was not as young as she once was and kneeling on stone did her no favors, before she grabbed her torch and walked back out of the crypts, not looking back, for she knew that was not what he would wish.

She had expected to go back to her rooms without seeing anyone else to rest, for she had not slept much at all the night before, having been to excited for what was to come, but she ran across one of her new acquaintances on the way back to her family’s quarters.

The Sultana of Great Moraq- one of them, at the very least- smiled at her. “Ah, Loreza.”

“Mara,” the Princess of Dorne replied, also with a small smile. “I would have thought that you would be resting, you left the feast last night after we did.”

“I received some correspondence from my family and chose to read them immediately,” Lady Mara replied. “I do have some good news that I believe you will appreciate, however.”

“Oh?”

“The architects that you wished to speak to? They shall be here in three moons, four at the most.”

Loreza knew her eyes lit up that that. “That is wonderful news!” she said, smile growing.

It was not common knowledge to at least the rest of Westeros, but while they had never had canals spreading throughout the desert like some dreamers had wished, there had been more than a few around their keeps and cities near three hundred years ago.

There was a reason besides their Rhoynish blood that Dorne did not look favorably upon the dragons. They had been more than willing to destroy everything that the Dornish had built, and now those times had all but slipped into legend.

Since those times, it had long been a dream for her House to change that, to bring back what they had before and make Dorne even greater than their ancestors had, but too many of their records on how to had been destroyed. Records of how to build canals or other such things had not been their ancestor’s priority to save when the dragons had come to claim what would never be theirs.

But now, now they had the chance to gain knowledge of how to from elsewhere and rebuild it with their own hands, not at the whims of someone who would wish to lord over them.

Lady Mara seemed to share her excitement, for her smile widened slightly as well. “You showed me the ideas that you already have, and I may have to visit again in a few years to see them come to fruition.”

Loreza’s smile softened, and she reached over to clasp her hands. “You would be welcome to visit whenever you wish, Mara.”

“And you in Moraq, Loreza.”

* * *

The daylight hours passed just as Loreza had wished, and she was able to spend time with her family- minus the two newlyweds that no one wished to interrupt, at least. Best to let them get the initial excitement out of their systems and then send them off to the Water Gardens the first chance they get.

Both Nym and Tyene had pouted at not being able to see their parents, but had quickly been distracted when Mehmed had showed up and they had managed to get him to tell them more stories, both of Moraqi legends and of his own personal stories. Both Arianne and Ovid joined their cousins, and all of them were easily occupied when they weren’t all piled up on each other and taking a nap.

Obara listened with her cousins, but she was also happy enough to sit on Loreza’s lap as she helped her learn some of her lessons. Her eldest grandchild had never taken easily to her lessons, and especially with learning how to read. She was making good progress, but in Loreza’s heart she knew that Obara would follow the path of a warrior and not an administrator or other such role. Though she doubted that she would live to see it, perhaps one day her granddaughter would end up as a general of their armies. She certainly had the potential to be one, and she knew it was not simply her being biased.

When she was not helping Obara, Loreza kept an eye on everyone else, especially her goodson.

A part of her would always worry for her children. She had full confidence in her daughter’s ability to rule at her husband’s side, but fate was a fickle thing. You could never know what would happen. You could only accept what had happened and move forward.

She was continuously relieved by what she saw in her daughter’s husband, however. In more than a few ways, he reminded her of both of her sons, in ways that she believed to be good.

At the very least, Elia herself seemed to like him. She did not believe it was love quite yet, but she personally had learned that friendship was the best start to any relationship, and Elia seemed to have already formed that with her husband.

(There was also the fact that Loreza knew that Lady Mara would take Mehmed over her knee herself if he ever dared to disrespect Elia, no matter how old he was or what position he held. That helped quite a bit, though from what she saw now she had hopes that it would never be necessary.)

And then the sunset came, and the final day of the celebrations was at hand.

This was the part that had brought the most discussion of what would take place.

More than a few had suggested that they had a ceremonial burning, to signify Nymeria burning the Rhoynar’s Ten Thousand Ships, but Loreza shied away from doing something like that. It was said that one of the Red Princes had done just that once to try and pretend that the Rhoynar had gone extinct instead of mixing with those that had already lived there to create a new, purely Dornish identity, and she had no desire to ever be compared to those so-called rulers.

In the end, they had chosen to simply have a few bonfires on the beaches, both to provide light and to keep everyone warm in the cool air the desert boasted at night, and simply have a feast, music, and dancing on the beach, just as their ancestors, both Rhoynish and otherwise, had done for millennia.

The preparations had gone off without a hitch. They didn’t even need to find out who unfortunately get the short straw and force her youngest son and gooddaughter to start preparing, for they had gotten up of their own accord, quite possibly just to go against all of their expectations since they had to have known that they all believed they would be difficult. Ellaria was a perfect match for her son in that area at the very least…

Sylvia had outdone herself with Ellaria’s lehenga. Her goodsister (for even though she and Lewyn couldn’t marry and more than likely wouldn’t even if they could, that was what she was to Loreza) had somehow managed to make it look like she was literally wearing flames, and the look was very becoming on her. The Uller woman was the second most beautiful bride that Dorne would see this year.

(Okay, she and Elia were equally as beautiful on their wedding days if you wanted an objective opinion. Loreza was simply biased towards her daughter. If anyone says they would not be in her place, they were lying.)

There were many tables set up on the beach, many more than the previous days. Loreza and her brother and her children and their families sat at the high table, as they always did regardless of where they were.

Once they were all settled, Loreza stood up and waited for a lull in everyone’s conversations to take place, for Lewyn would no doubt be irked to hear the speech she had practiced on him yet again. He no doubt didn’t want to hear it even this time, but who else could she practice on? She could lord both the fact that she was his Princess _and_ the fact that she was the eldest against him. He had no defense against her whims, and so if she wished to practice her speeches on him, he was forced to listen.

“People of Dorne and our allies,” she began after she was assured that she held their attention, “I thank you for coming on this day.

“Exactly a thousand years ago on this very day, Nymeria, Princess of Ny Sar, married Mors Martell, Lord of the Sandship, at this very location- the first marriage to take place between the Rhoynar and the original inhabitants of Dorne, but nowhere near the last. That night, she reiterated that the Rhoynar had found a new home here in Dorne, and they announced the formation of House Nymeros Martell- House Martell of the line of Nymeria.

“At the same time, they crowned each other as Prince and Princess of Dorne, both of them equal in authority to each other, and but a fortnight later they had begun their unification of Dorne. By their first anniversary, they controlled the entire Greenblood, and their legacy was soon to be assured by the birth of their daughter and heir, Dyanna, the first child of the Dorne we know now. It took another ten years and much grief before their dreams of fully unifying Dorne were realized, but they accomplished it, and ushered in a new era of prosperity in the process.”

If this anniversary had been a year ago, Loreza would have felt the need to speak some kind of words to placate her people and to not make them question even more whether or not they should break away from the Targaryens’ “peace,” but that had already happened with no fault from them. She still felt a vicious pleasure at that thought, one that Lewyn had shared with her when they had realized it while she was writing this speech.

Knowing that, the Princess of Dorne was free to continue by saying, “A thousand years after their union, we are standing in a free, independent Dorne once again, one that will continue to stay that way, just as our ancestors would wish for us.”

With that, she stood, taking her goblet and raising it in front of her. “I would like to propose a toast in the memory of our ancestors, and of our dreams for our descendants, that they may all continue to live in a Dorne that thrives, a Dorne that will be even better than what we see now. To Dorne!”

The night air sung with the echoes of her people repeating her toast, and Loreza smiled.

Yes, her country would thrive. She had no plans to leave quite yet, but she knew that her children and grandchildren and all of their descendants would see Nymeria and Mors’ dreams continue to see the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious, Loreza does worship both Mother Rhoyne and the Seven. Arianne will probably follow in her footsteps in that area as she grows up. Doran probably feels about the same way as Oberyn regarding religion, it's just not quite as noticeable. Elia will probably end up worshiping Mother Rhoyne more or less exclusively in several years, but less because she doesn't have any faith in the Seven and more because there's no sept in Moraq and she's not about to ask for one built just for her. As for the Sand Snakes... they're the Sand Snakes. Tyene's probably going to be the most religious of them, and even then she'll be along Arianne's line of thinking.
> 
> I'm not entirely sure why Dornish funeral customs came up today? But seriously, I don't understand how the Riverlands seem to be the only country in Westeros to have their own funeral customs. Like, even the North seems to have a very similar process to the rest of the continent... even though given that's where the Long Night happened you'd think that they would cremate their dead like the Free Folk do. But that's another thing we're not focusing on right now.
> 
> Sandstone- looking at where it's situated, yeah I'm saying it's situated on an oasis. I imagine that it's a major stop for anyone traveling between the Red Mountains and the south/east of Dorne due to this.
> 
> Loreza is one of only, like, two people to call Lady Mara just Mara with no titles attached. The other is Lady Mara's husband.
> 
> Looking at what Aegon the Conqueror and Visenya did to Dorne... yeah, I like to imagine that they did much more of a number on them than what some assume. Sunspear was the ONLY keep/city not burnt at least once when Rhaenys died. Like Loreza said, they didn't have grand canals spanning everywhere nor tons of cities like other places in Westeros does, but the ones they had... well, they haven't really felt able to rebuild them, nor have they really had the ability to.
> 
> Loreza does not abuse her power, but when she does, it is exclusively to mess with her baby brother in some petty way, and 99.9999% of the time it's to make him sit there while she practices her speeches.
> 
> ...I should probably stop projecting my feelings on all the male targs on Loreza, shouldn't I...
> 
> Next chapter: Rhaella really enjoys being on the sea. It smells so much better.


	30. Trust, or Lack Thereof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaella gets out of King's Landing for a time, and has a talk with her son about trust.

**The Narrow Sea, close to the Broken Arm of Dorne**

They had been at sea for several days, but Rhaella doubted that the fresh sea air would ever lose it’s allure to her, not after having lived in King’s Landing.

If her son asked her what he could do to win the love of his subjects, she would tell him to start renovating their capitol, taking special interest in the sewer systems. How none of their ancestors had done anything to fix that boggled the mind. Had her kingly ancestors like smelling like shit that much?

She wished that she could bring herself to leave King’s Landing behind, to settle on Dragonstone permanently with Viserys, for she refused to leave her youngest behind. It was damp and dark, yes, but it at least did not smell. Nor did it hold the same terrible memories…

But she could not allow herself to. Not until Rhaegar had married and had a child.

Rhaella sighed, gazing out at the waves from where she stood on the ship’s deck. She was grateful beyond words that she had found a reason to leave King’s Landing if only for a few moons, but the last private confrontation she had with her son…

* * *

It had been but three days before they left. Rhaella had been sitting with Amista and a couple other female servants that she could trust, going over her wardrobe. It had been in a sad state for years, and even before they had agreed that she would go to Dorne to negotiate she had ordered new clothing for herself. It would not do for the Queen Mother- a title that she could not wait for people to use, for they would likely have to once Rhaegar married and there was another Queen in the realm- to only wear drab, unsuited clothing for her station.

She had told the guard they had forced her to station in the hallway outside her doors that she had not wished to be interrupted, and if any wished to see her despite that to knock and announce who was on the other side, but her wishes were apparently not taken into account.

The door was not slammed open, simply opened quietly, but Rhaella could not stop the sharp, fearful way she sucked in a breath nor stop the way she tensed and closed her eyes, expecting the shouted words and actions that she had endured for years.

“Mother?”

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, turning to find her eldest staring at her worriedly. “Rhaegar,” she said, suddenly more exhausted than if she ha gotten no sleep the night before. She sighed, closing her eyes again for a brief moment before gesturing for her attendants to leave, which they did, bowing to him as they left.

Before he could say a word, she sighed again and asked, “Did the guard not tell you I wished not to be disturbed, especially without warning?”

Rhaegar at least had the grace to look abased. “I thought that you would not mind. You always welcomed me as a child with no warning.”

“The days of your childhood are long since passed, my son,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “No matter what we wish, things have long since changed since then. All I ask is for you to at least knock.”

Not giving him any time to reply, she shook her head and turned back to him. “What is it you wished to talk to me about?”

Silence reigned for the longest moment, before he asked, “Why do you protest the idea of me personally going to Dorne to negotiate?”

She blinked. “Rhaegar, what-“

“Do you not trust me?”

“Rhaegar-“

“You do not, do you?! How could you not trust your own-“

“The last man I ever trusted was my Uncle Ormund.”

Her son froze at the icy tone of her voice, reeling back as if slapped, but Rhaella could not bring herself to regret that fact. Perhaps it was harsh, but she would not- _could_ not- coddle him any longer, especially not regarding a subject like this.

“Do you know why he was the last man I ever trusted?” she said quietly, but with the same icy tone. “It was because he protested the marriage I was forced into. My Aunt Rhaelle was the loudest voice, but he stood beside her while she did and added his voice to hers. The only reason why he was not unofficially exiled like his wife was because they could not afford it. They had too few allies because of how foolish his wife’s siblings and parents were, and even they knew alienating the Baratheons _again_ would have only made things worse.”

“But I-“

“But you what?” she scoffed, shaking her head at him. “What have you done? Yes, up until a few years ago you were not of age and were somewhat hindered by that fact, but near four years ago you came of age. Did you make any move to overthrow your sire at that point? You would have had more than enough support after Duskendale, and yet you did nothing. You stayed on Dragonstone as often as you could, even when you got news of what that man demanded of the Martells.”

Rhaella sighed again, her anger giving way to tiredness once more, as it always seemed to around her eldest. “I long to trust you, my son, but with the actions you have taken-“ or rather, the _lack_ of actions- “I cannot. Not yet.”

Rhaegar stared at her with a broken look that she wished she hadn’t seen on him before. “But, you trust Tywin Lannister and Lucerys Velaryon?”

She snorted, shaking her head. “No. I do not. I trust that Tywin will do what he can to see his family gain prestige, and trust that he does not wish war and thus has no plans to harm me at this moment. That does not mean I trust the man himself. Far from it.”

“And Velaryon?”

She eyed him, noticing the sudden change in tone but not being certain how to interpret it. “I trust that he wishes for nothing more from me than what I am willing to offer him.”

That Rhaella knew of for certain. But a day after the council meeting where they had agreed to send her as an emissary to Dorne, she had met Lucerys by chance in the gardens. There she had chosen to bluntly ask what he wished from her, for as she had said to her son, she did not trust men, no matter how pleasant they were.

Lucerys had sighed and admitted that he had failed her, having stayed silent over her treatment by the previous king. Before she had died of the sickness that had passed through Driftmark and other areas of the Crownlands just under two years prior, his own wife had many times taken him to task over it, though he had been fearful that something would happen to his own family should he speak up too loudly, something that she acknowledged as a valid fear. He did not ask for her to give him her forgiveness, but he did state that he wished to perhaps bring her some joy in her life through friendship as a way to make amends.

In a move that surprised her, Rhaella had actually toyed with telling him that if he felt the need for her forgiveness, she was willing to give it. He was the first to have admitted that he did wrong and even past that did not expect anything further from her as a result.

She refused to tell all of that to Rhaegar. He had no say in her life as far as she was concerned.

No man should have a say again.

Rhaegar stared at her. Any other time she would say something else, something to try and ease the blow she gave him, but not this time. Once again, she would not coddle him any longer.

After several minutes of complete silence that a part of her wished to break but the rest of her refused to, her son finally asked in a quiet voice, “And what would you have me do?”

Rhaella let out a breath, closing her eyes. “I want you to try, my son. Try to be better, to be the king I dreamt of you being when all of us were younger.” The king she had dreamt of before even more of her hopes had been crushed.

“And who would help me with that? My best friend refused to stay here and aid me!”

Ah. There was one of the underlying problems.

Arthur Dayne had chosen to leave the Kingsguard and return when he was offered the chance. Rhaella actually slightly respected him for actually choosing that. Not enough to like or come close to forgiving him, but enough to appreciate that he actually had a brain.

“Can you blame him?” she asked. “After what your predecessor did, I am not surprised that he wished to return to his family and recover there. I do not believe that he can carry out his duties to protect you with the damage done.”

“The maesters and healers said he would make a full recovery. He will regain the use of his arm.”

“Perhaps they are right, but I have never heard a whisper of him leaving his room since he was brought to it, and I believe the true problem lies in his own mind. Perhaps being around his family will help him more than staying here ever could. It would also help if he knew that his friend supported his decision to leave and wished him well.”

She was right, and Rhaegar obviously knew it, though he looked away.

Rhaella sighed yet again. “Rhaegar, my son, if you but ask I will help, will advise you. Like I have said before, I truly wish to see you thrive.”

“But you are disappointed in me.”

“Yes,” she said bluntly, refusing to mince words. “I am. But you are young. You have time to change that.”

Rhaegar still did not look at her, but after a moment he said, “I will think on your words, mother.”

He turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment before saying quietly, “Thank you, for being honest to me.”

“I will always be, my son,” she said, equally as quietly.

* * *

Rhaella had no idea if he did what she suggested and talked to Dayne, but when they left very early in the morning three days later, said “knight” was carried to their ship regardless, and she had no desire to talk to him and find out.

She did not agree with stealing away so early. The common people would no doubt have heard that she was going to Dorne to negotiate by now, and they would have also heard rumors of what had happened to Dayne. Rumors were often far more dangerous than reality ever was.

Alas, she had not been the one to plan the time of her departure. Some of Lucerys’ men had done that, and it seemingly had to do with the tides being good at that time and not anything to do with that.

Rhaella sighed, shaking her head and doing her best to dislodge those thoughts. She had no wish to taint this fresh air and freedom she was able enjoy with thoughts of her son and his rule until she had to.

Though she was actually surprised at how much concessions Rhaegar had agreed to make, should they be needed. They were in no way going to completely placate Dorne, nor would they necessarily end up being put in motion, but he at least did seem to have taken her suggestions to focus on the other realms of Westeros instead of chasing after Dorne to heart.

Perhaps there was hope for him after all.

“My Queen,” a voice behind her called, making her turn and see Nasir, the captain of the ship, looking at her. When he had her attention, he gave a shallow bow and said, “Looks to be a storm coming. I’d suggest you go below deck to weather it out.”

“A storm?” she asked, looking at the horizon on the opposite side of the ship. Sure enough, there were dark clouds that way.

“Don’t worry, your grace. It don’t look like a bad one.”

“But it would still be best to stay out of it,” she sighed. “Thank you for the warning captain.”

“No thanks needed, milady.”

It was when she was walking back to her cabin- one that she had to herself- a fact that made her gleeful because for so long she had never been left alone,- that something happened.

Barristan Selmy was going down the narrow halls of the ship, and both froze when they saw each other.

Rhaella had not been pleased when she had been forced to being a Kingsguard with her, but she had to admit that she was somewhat relieved it was Selmy. He at least did not pretend that everything was fine and that she had no reason at all to dislike them.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Selmy hesitatingly said, “Queen Mother Rhaella…”

She blinked. She preferred being called the Queen Mother, but few were seemingly willing to address her as that, even though it was actually the correct title.

He paused, before taking in a deep breath and admitting, “I, more than anyone, was an accomplice in what happened, and for that I apologize.”

She blinked again. This was certainly not what she had expected.

Rhaella shook her head after a moment, saying, “You did your duty at Duskendale. Had that man not gone completely mad, even I would have seen you as hero with no reservations for the rescue you made, for it truly was something that the bards should sing of.”

“That may be, but it still added to your suffering.”

“Yes.” She would not deny that, for it was nothing but the truth. She sighed and shook her head again. “Ser Selmy, if you wish to make some sort of atonement, do one thing: teach your squires and brothers of honor. True honor, to keep to your vows of knighthood above all else. Make the Kingsguard what Queen Visenya envisioned it to be when she first created your order.”

The man gravely nodded. “That, I can do, Queen Mother. I have already wondered if that would be something I could do, and your words bring me reassurance that it is truly the right path.”

Rhaella let out a breath, before nodding at him and returning to her cabin.

She did not believe that he would be able to, or whether he would do what she thought should be done, and she would still worry that one of her descendants would be forced into a life like hers… but it was a far better start than she had ever hoped for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hate how jumpy Rhaella can get because of how she had lived, but unfortunately I don't think I can avoid it even if the person that did it all is dead :(
> 
> I don't see how Rhaella wouldn't be disappointed in Rhaegar. Like she pointed out, he's been of age for almost four years. He could have easily done something after Duskendale, and yet he didn't. (He didn't even in canon and instead just ran off and started a war, but that's actually not relevant to this at the moment.)
> 
> Am I setting up Rhaella and Lucerys? *shrugs* I haven't actually decided. It will probably hinge on whether or not I decide that Dany should exist. Either way, they will be friends, something Rhaella deserves. His wife at least was one of Rhaella's supporters, and before her death quietly sent on news to her network.
> 
> We shall see Arthur Dayne next chapter. He might not enjoy it considering who he'll be interacting with though.
> 
> So. Barristan Selmy.  
> I have thoughts on him... but he does seem to be the one of the Kingsguard that might actually not be terrible. Plus he in canon wonders whether or not he should have saved Aerys in Duskendale, so there is that.  
> I will say that Rhaella won't ever like him. She won't ever like any of the current KG. Whether she'll like any of the new ones (since in the next couple of years they'll get three new ones since they lost Arthur, there's the guy I'm headcanoning Lewyn Martell replaced, and there's that guy Jaime replaced) is very much in question, but she's not about to trust them either, not unless they change the oath that they have them take... which won't happen until her grandson takes the throne at earliest.
> 
> Next chapter: Oberyn is kind of annoyed that they had to show up the very day that he and Ellaria get back from the Water Gardens.


	31. Things that Poison Relationships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oberyn watches Rhaella arrive in Dorne, and has a little talk with a knight that he grew up with. There's a lot of cursing that happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second half of this chapter was supposed to be different, but then Oberyn decided that no, he really wanted to yell at Arthur Dayne. I'm sorry, I can't control him, he just does what he wants.
> 
> Oh, and just so you know, I've been going through and editing previous chapters. I haven't really been adding anything, mainly just fixing some errors, like saying that Arianne was third in line to inherit Dorne when she's never been anything but the second.

**Sunspear**

Oberyn wasn’t even surprised that things happened the very day that he and his branch of the family got back from the Water Gardens.

The morning after they had gotten married… wait, no, that was a bold-faced lie. When they had dragged themselves out of bed after a long night of revelry, they’d had an early lunch with the rest of their family before saddling the horses and heading to the Water Gardens for a sennight. They’d had to go at a slow pace, but Tyene had been so enthusiastic about being able to ride on a horse in front of her mama rather than in a litter that no one had minded.

(Well, Nym had complained about how she wasn’t able to ride a pony of her own like Obara was, but considering how she complained about that every single time that wasn’t too hard to take care of.)

They had stayed there for a little more than a sennight, simply taking the time to themselves with no duties or urgent summons from Sunspear, simply enjoying each other and watching the girls play in the pools.

Nym had even started calling Ellaria “Madre,” the Rhoynish word for mother, but a couple days into their stay. Ellaria hadn’t been able to hide her tears after that, and he had not been surprised at all when their middle daughter managed to crawl in bed with them that night for cuddles.

Unfortunately, all good things came to an end, and so the very afternoon that they had come back something they had been waiting for since but a few days after Elia’s wedding happened because obviously the world needed to mess with him yet again.

Oberyn and Ellaria were reclining on a chaise in their solar, his head in her lap while he cleaned one of his knives while she read one of the books she had borrowed from the main library.

(If he was honest, these quiet moments were far better than sex could ever be. Sure, that was great and he loved doing it, but the sheer intimacy that came from times like this…)

Of course, their time had to be interrupted by a knock at the door. “Who is it?”

“Your mother. I must talk to you.”

That got him to shoot up, almost whacking his head on the book Ellaria hurriedly closed and put aside, the knife he had been polishing going back to it’s hidden place in his clothing. “Come in.”

Loreza strode in, closing the door behind her before looking at them with a tired and slightly guilty look. “I told you that the dragons are sending Queen Rhaella to negotiate, correct?”

Oberyn groaned, completely eclipsing the sigh that Ellaria let out at that news. “They’re here, aren’t they.”

“Yes.” If anything, his mother looked put out at that. “I had hoped they would arrive while you two were still at the Water Gardens, or failing it would be at a better time when we could send the children there on short notice. But alas, we cannot send them there easily as yours have just come back from there, and as they are confirmed to only have one ship by our own, it would admittedly be a slightly paranoid measure.”

“You still suggested that Elia spend the afternoon and evening with them, didn’t you.”

“I did not, for she herself went of her own volition.”

He snorted. His mother was probably telling the truth considering how often his sister was spending time with the snakelings, but she was no doubt very pleased by the fact that Elia now has guards following her that would protect her at all costs, and at the knowledge that she would refuse to leave the children behind.

Paranoid it may be, but no one wanted anything to happen to the children.

Ellaria looked slightly amused as well, but wiped it off her face before saying, “You wish for us to be in the throne room when they arrive.”

Loreza looked at her with regret, but nodded. “I wish that this was not the first time you will appear before the court, but…”

His wife- that was still an odd thought and he couldn’t wait to see some of his Essosi friend’s reactions to seeing that she actually existed- just waved a hand. “You did not ask for any of this to happen, so please do not apologize.”

Loreza smiled at her before turning to the room and saying, “They should be here in but a couple of hours. I will send someone to get you when they arrive and your presence is needed in the throne room.”

* * *

They were actually waiting for close to three hours before they were summoned. Oberyn was a little put out, for they could have been doing more enjoyable stuff than just waiting around if they had known that fact.

But they were ushered into the throne room with no delay after the word came, finding it packed with all of the nobility that had not yet left Sunspear to return to their own homes. He could not see Elia or Mehmed anywhere, just as he had suspected when his mother had mentioned that his sister would be with the kids, but he did see Lady Mara in the corner along with a couple of the Moraqi nobles that had arrived with them.

Like before, Oberyn and Ellaria were stationed on the Princess’ right, Doran and Mellario in front of Mors’ throne on her left as was traditional when a ruler’s consort was unavailable for whatever reason, so long as the heir was the opposite gender.

Their family in place, Princess Loreza waved her hand and the guards by the doors opened the doors to allow their visitors in.

“Rhaella Targaryen, mother to Rhaegar Targaryen, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the _Six_ Kingdoms.”

Oberyn couldn’t stop himself from blinking when he saw the woman striding towards them, though he was certain that was the only reaction that showed on his face. Who could blame him for his surprise though?

He had seen Queen Rhaella only once before that he could remember, and it had been over nine years before when the unlamented idiot that had once claimed to rule Dorne decided to go on a Royal Progress. When he had seen her then, he had found it very hard to believe that she was near of an age to Doran, for they could not have been more different. Doran had stood strong at their mother’s side, already an accomplished warrior and knight at that point, their father and uncles having taken him on several skirmishes against bandits and other miscreants for years.

Queen Rhaella, on the other hand… seeing her, seeing how exhausted she had looked, how she had looked years older than she actually was because of everything she had been forced to endure… that had thrown his mother’s words about respecting any partners he took into sharp relief. No one deserved to be treated like that…

The woman he saw on this day was far different than the way she had looked then. She still looked far older than the mere two years she had on Doran, but not to anywhere near the same extent that she had over nine years before. She still looked somewhat drawn and tired, but that could very well just be from the travel, for she stood tall, as if a large weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Which it had. Honestly, that damned insane dragon had deserved a worse death than he got. Too bad he hadn’t been there to share some of the poison recipes he had learned in his travels. He could think of seven off the top of his head that would have done very nicely, and if he had more time and motive he could no doubt come up with even more.

Oberyn was close enough to see his mother’s eyes soften upon seeing her, but any farther and you wouldn’t be able to, especially if one did not know her well. He wasn’t about to say anything against that; though she had never said it directly to him, he knew that his mother saw Rhaella as a daughter.

When Rhaella had walked forward to be as close to the dais as she was allowed, Ricasso announced the family they had on the dais, Oberyn and Ellaria getting a quick but still completely baffled look when she was introduced as his wife. It was probably good that both of them were well able to hide their amusement when they had to.

Introductions over, Rhaella gave a lower curtsy than protocol demanded when greeting the ruler of an independent country to his surprise. She may personally respect his mother, but he certainly had not expected anything like that.

“Princess Loreza,” the Targaryen Queen Mother started, not rising from her curtsy, “I would like to share my deepest regrets that any of this has happened. The _late_ king had no reason to order what he did besides his own paranoid delusions, and the world is well rid of such a fool.”

Huh. He hadn’t ever expected her to defend that man, but he hadn’t expected such a direct condemnation. Then again, he had been informed of who came with her, and as far as he was aware there were no other really high-ranking nobles that arrived with her, and only one of the so-called “knights” of the Kingsguard. The jury was still deciding whether that was intended as a snub or was just a pragmatic move from the people that had planned that, and he wasn’t sure he particularly cared either way.

“The entire world no doubt breathed a sigh of relief when his death was confirmed,” Princess Loreza replied, still regally sitting on her throne and making no move to make this audience easy for them. As much affection she held towards Rhaella personally, she loved her country far more, and would take Dorne into account for any action she would ever make.

“No doubt,” Rhaella agreed, finally rising from her curtsy and looking up at the Ruling Princess. “Once again, I bring deep apologies from the Iron Throne for what has happened, and have come with the hope that our two kingdoms can be allies in the future despite these events.”

Did… did she just acknowledge the fact that Dorne was independent?

Judging by the shocked looks on the faces of his countrymen he could see, he wasn’t the only one wondering if he had heard her right.

Even his own mother’s eyes widened the slightest bit, but within a split second her Princess’ mask was back in place and there was no indication that it had ever cracked, and she stared at her impassively. “Two hundred and eighty-one years ago, Princess Meria Nymeros Martell offered an alliance to Aegon the First, telling him that Dorne would help him against his enemies, but flat out refused to bend the knee to him. He refused to accept that, and so invaded our country to his family’s peril.”

“King Rhaegar is not the same person that the first King was.”

Oberyn wanted to snort at that. From what he’d seen of him… what was it, six years ago now at that tourney? Rhaegar certainly wasn’t his most famous ancestor. There were a lot of words he could use to describe that first delusional idiot that thought he could rule Dorne as a king, but he would admit that man had at least actually managed to pull of his conquest of most of the continent. He doubted that this particular king would be anything but average at best.

“Perhaps.” his mother allowed, inclining her head. “That remains to be seen, however.”

* * *

And thus followed more of the type of meetings that made Oberyn very glad that he wasn’t the heir. It wasn’t that he _couldn’t_ participate and be that type of prince, it was just that he really hated doing it, especially since it apparently wasn’t proper to just tell everyone that they’re a bunch of idiots because people were weak and couldn’t handle the truth.

The good news was that Ellaria hated them just as much as he did and was perfectly willing to unwind together at the end of the day since she was stuck going whenever he was.

Far less pleasurable but still something he very much appreciated was how the negotiations were going.

As one would expect, the Targaryens- or at least their king, Rhaella herself seemed to actually possess a brain and realize that they were in a terrible spot and couldn’t afford their usual brand of stupidity and had looked visibly done- were trying to act like they were superior to everyone yet again and try to force them into a very unequal trading agreements, apparently thinking that they actually needed the trade from them even though this entire thing had started because they had figured out that trading with other countries was a great idea.

Morons.

Anyway, a day finally came when there were no meetings because Rhaella said she had to send a raven to her son, asking for his input on some such issue (by that she was dragging this out so she didn’t have to go back to King’s Landing, something he fully understood given his mother’s tales of life there), and so Oberyn decided that it was time for him to pay a visit to someone he very much wished to talk to, someone he hadn’t seen for over five years and who had made the dumb decision to join a brotherhood of “knights” that went against all of the vows they made when they received their own knighthoods.

Somehow, he doubted he’d understand Arthur Dayne’s reasons even if he was completely forthcoming. They had both been taught that you kept the vows you made when you received your knighthood, and those didn’t include letting a mad king run around and brutalize his own wife and just generally be an absolutely terrible king.

Some of his feelings on the subject must have shown on his face, for when he ran into an exhausted and somewhat annoyed looking Ashara outside of her older brother’s room, she stared at him for a moment before dryly stating, “If you’re here to kill him, I must protest out of filial duty.”

Oberyn raised an eyebrow. “Filial duty?”

His friend sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Maybe you yelling at him can shake him out of it, for not even mother can.”

“He’s been that bad?”

The look he got told the entire story. “He’s convinced that all of the healers are lying about him recovering most of his ability in his arm, and that it’s penance from the gods for his actions, or at least the lack of them.”

“And you think I’m not going to tell him that?”

“I am hoping that you agreeing with him will upset him so much that he will snap out of it just to try and prove you wrong.”

Oberyn just shrugged at that before Ashara left. He did have that effect on people for whatever reason and he couldn’t figure out why.

Opening the door, he found that his friend had been correct about her brother’s state.

Arthur Dayne was staring at the ceiling, looking completely forlorn like there was nothing in the world that would ever matter again. Even from where he was standing by the door he could clearly see that his sword arm was tightly bound in a cast and the room reeked of some of the herbs the healers used to encourage healing, some of them quite rare, though he certainly didn’t look like he appreciated the lengths they had gone to trying to heal him.

That was the thing that inflamed Oberyn’s anger because he knew the healers that would have been the ones to tend to him, and they deserved better than such an ungrateful patient. “Ah, the _great_ Sword of the Morning, brought down by a simple injury. I have to wonder how you even got the title in the first place, for it certainly doesn’t seem to me that you deserve it given everything you’ve done- or rather, everything that you _didn’t_ do.”

That got Arthur Dayne’s jaw to clench in anger. Good. Yelling at someone who just sat there and took it was something he hated, for it made him pity them. “What would you know? You have never been faced with the choices I have.”

“No. But I grew up being taught that you should stand up against injustice, not stand meekly by and let it happen. In fact, I seem to remember you being in some of those lessons while we were all at the Water Gardens, and yet you just stood by and let a madman brutalize his own wife and burn people to death.”

“The Darkling family deserved-“

“To have even the children killed? For the foreign wife to be mutilated and burned to death rather than just be beheaded like her husband?” Oberyn snarled, stalking forward to stare at him. “What’s your excuse for that? What’s your excuse for standing guard at Queen Rhaella’s door and listen to the man she was forced to marry against her will rape her every night?”

“It was not the right time-“

 _“Right Time?”_ he hissed, clenching his hands almost hard enough for his nails to draw blood to keep himself from punching the idiot in front of him. “When the fuck would the right time be? If a man rapes his wife here in Dorne, he gets thrown in prison at best. It doesn’t fucking matter if he’s a fucking noble or not. One of my own ancestors, a fucking prince of Dorne, was held accountable for similar actions, and yet you couldn’t do the same.”

Oh, so now Dayne looked alive while defending his actions. “You’d have me become an oathbreaker?” he snarled, glaring at him.

“If the oaths involve betraying your fucking vows as a knight, yes! Do you think the Seven would be happy with you doing that?”

“Like you believe in the Seven! You refuse to enter a sept unless forced!”

“Oh, just so I hate the fucking septons and septas that can’t actually pay attention to what they teach means that their gods might not exist? If that’s not a good example, then how about Mother Rhoyne? You’d think she’d be happy that a man- a Valyrian, might I add- did that to his wife while one of her children stands by and listens to it all happen? You think she’d be happy that he stands by and watches him fall deeper into insanity and do his best to drag everyone along with him? If you try to say that Mother Rhoyne doesn’t exist anymore, so help me I’ll drag you down to the Greenblood myself and let some of the Orphans deal with you. In fact, my aunt Sarita is still here in Sunspear, I could just turn you over to her and save myself the trip. I doubt my mother, your Princess, would be that upset with me over it considering how much she loved my great-grandmother, who worshiped Mother Rhoyne exclusively.”

His former friend just glared at him. “You’d be willing to be exiled again for letting them kill me?”

“Who said they’d kill you?” Oberyn scoffed, turning around back to the door. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re already doing a good job of that yourself, sitting here in bed and not even trying to do anything to help your case, not even for the sake of your own family.”

“They would be better off without me.”

“Probably. They wouldn’t have to deal with your shit anymore.”

Silence followed that declaration. Oberyn scoffed again, reaching the door and was about to open it when Dayne asked in a small voice, “Is she happy?

That got him to blink in surprise and actually turn back around. “Elia?”

“Yes. Is she happy with her husband?”

That tone of his voice, along with the things Elia had confided in him about when he was about fifteen and she sixteen… “Did you seriously join the damned Kingsguard because you thought that you couldn’t marry Elia?” he asked incredulously, trying to wrap his mind around that fact and completely failing.

“What do you know of love? You’ve never spent more than a night with a woman!”

Before he was even aware of what he was doing, Oberyn was next to the bed, his hands thrust towards Dayne to show the recent but healed scars on his palms, knowing that he knew exactly how Rhoynish ceremonies worked and would recognize what these particular marks signify. “Don’t ever accuse me of that again,” he hissed, glaring at his shocked face, “for I at least will try, unlike you.”

With that, he turned and stomped out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Oberyn wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do after that, probably go attack some stuff at the training grounds, but when he got to his rooms to change he found Ellaria waiting for him in a chaise, staring straight at the door with one leg crossed over the other, sipping at some drink in a mug.

She smirked at him. “I hear you talked to Arthur Dayne.”

“…I did. How did you find out?”

“Ashara told Elia, who told me. Your sister wished to talk to you about it, but I convinced her that I was more than equipped to deal with stubborn, annoyed men.”

Considering her own father and uncle, she probably was.

Ellaria patted the seat next to her, and he realized that didn’t have much of a way to avoid this conversation, so he sat down, making certain that she could see his annoyed expression even though he knew that it wouldn’t do anything. “Are you going to tell me I’m wrong for thinking that he’s a hypocrite that needs to get a clue?”

She shrugged. “I never met him, so I can’t say. But are you really going to ignore the fact that you two grew up together?”

“Considering how you had to have learned that from Elia since I haven’t mentioned him to you before, I already am.”

Ellaria sighed, giving him an annoyed look. “Oberyn.”

“What? He’s the one that decided to betray everything and join the Kingsguard because he just assumed he couldn’t marry Elia since he’s a second son even though Doran had shown no indication that he’d ever get married at that point and her kids would more than likely inherit the Sunchair!”

She blinked. “Well, that explains a lot,” she muttered, looking slightly annoyed at herself for whatever reason, probably because she hadn’t realized that before.

(To be fair, Oberyn himself hadn’t either. He’d suspected given what Elia had written in that letter almost four years ago when she’d told him what their so-called friend had done, but he hadn’t known for certain until today.)

Ellaria shook her head before looking at him. “Oby, I’m not telling you that you have to forget everything he’s done, I’m just telling you that maybe you should have a conversation with him where you don’t yell at him before completely writing him off. I doubt that he’s in any state to deal with your anger at the moment.”

Oberyn scowled, but couldn’t deny that logic. “Fine. I’ll talk to him again if he starts getting out of bed and doing something that’s not terrible with his life.”

“That’s all I ask. Now, I believe that Tyene and Arianne wanted you to tell them more stories of your travels since you had to cut them off early yesterday, and if we don’t distract them I’m worried about what prank they’ll decide to try today.”

As that was a legitimate worry, he sighed, did his best to swallow his anger, and followed her down to the nursery, giving one last scowl in the direction of the guest chambers where Arthur Dayne was.

He’d listen to Ellaria, but he had doubts whether his terms would be met. He hadn’t gotten any indication that they would from that conversation or even before then, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured that while Nym doesn't have many memories of her biological mom, if any, she does still know that she exists, and that she probably called her mama. So, referring to Ellaria using the Rhoynish word it is!
> 
> I'm convinced that Loreza taught both of her sons that if they started treating women like Rhaella was treated, they'd be lucky if she just disowned them.
> 
> Rhaella only is like two-three years older than Doran or something like that.
> 
> Rhaella also probably just assumed that Ellaria was Elia because she didn't know if the marriage had happened yet, and let's face it, Oberyn actually getting married wouldn't even be a possibility in her mind, since they didn't meet Ellaria until after independence was declared.
> 
> Meria Martell really did offer to ally with Aegon the Conqueror against Argilac Durrandon of the Stormlands. Obviously, he didn't take it, preferring to take over the continent instead. I really have to wonder how things would have gone if he had accepted just an alliance...
> 
> So... Arthur Dayne.  
> If you're wondering why Oberyn is so disgusted, remember that Elia, his own sister, was threatened with the same fate as Rhaella. Not only that, but he has three daughters of his own, and imagining them being in a similar position and no one actually taking their knightly vows seriously is something that he prays will never happen.
> 
> For what it's worth, I don't think believing that he couldn't get Elia was the only reason that Arthur joined the Kingsguard. It was one of them, yes, but he also believed that he didn't really have any future in Starfall. He was a second son, and he had two younger sisters, though one was only like a year old at the time. He thought the Kingsguard would be a place he could make something of his life, and didn't really think things through.
> 
> Oh, off topic, but I wrote a one shot about Daenerys Martell! I forgot to mention it last update ^^
> 
> Next chapter: Rhaella and Loreza talk. I'd suggest you get some tissues.


	32. Family of Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaella and Loreza talk, and Rhaella admits how she has always seen Loreza.

**Sunspear**

Their arrival at Sunspear had gone about how Rhaella had expected.

Their ship was kept on the open sea for at least an hour by a couple of ships she had never seen the make of before they were allowed to dock, no doubt on orders from the palace. She couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else was surprised by that fact, for she certainly was not. She would have done the same.

Rhaella and those she had chosen to come with her to the Old Palace were met at the docks by Prince Lewyn and a fairly large group of soldiers, none of whom said anything to them besides what was required. She was not surprised about that either.

Nor was she surprised by the fact that they were led through a less populated part of their Shadow City, especially when the few faces they passed by were unwelcoming, to say the least. Despite the looks, no words were spoken to them, which was almost worse than the jeers she had been expecting they would greet her with.

If that had not been enough indication of how this visit would go, her introduction to the Dornish court gathered in the throne room would have done it. If you were not paying any attention at all, perhaps one could miss the fact that they had announced her as the mother of the King of only the Andals and the First Men, omitting the Rhoynar from his subjects, for they truly were not, not anymore. While Dorne held descendants of both the First Men- mostly from houses and people found in the Red Mountains- and the Andals- mostly of houses and people in the deserts- those people were found elsewhere in Westeros. The Rhoynar and their descendants could only truly be found in Dorne, and thus did not believe that the Iron Throne held any authority over them now.

If someone missed that, they would have certainly noticed that he was called Lord of the _Six_ Kingdoms, with emphasis on said number. They definitely wanted them to notice that one.

There had been four people on the dais, only one sitting on the throne.

Loreza… her Loree looked older than she remembered, with more strands of gray streaking through her loose curls, but she still sat as regally on Nymeria’s throne as she had the last time she had seen her, resplendent in the traditional red and orange Rhoynish dress she wore. Loreza had always favored bold colors, taking pride in standing out from the rest of the court in King’s Landing. The crown she wore… Rhaella would admit to being jealous of it, for the golden spears and suns with rubies and ambers were truly a work of art. It relieved her more than she could ever say that she looked so well, so full of life even if she had passed her fiftieth year.

The man standing on her left in front of the other throne was her son and heir, Doran, who looked much the same as when she had last seen him, albeit slightly older. Even if she hadn’t recognized him before, both his position and his appearance alone would have told her who he was, for he looked more than a little like his father Maron Gargalen, who Rhaella wished she had known better. Loreza had left her consort and brother in charge of Dorne in her stead, and Maron had only come to King’s Landing himself once before Loreza had left her service and returned to her homeland.

Doran’s wife Mellario stood next to him, an Essosi beauty for certain. She did have tanner skin than she had expected, though she was unsure if it was natural or simply a consequence of living under the Dornish sun.

On Loreza’s right stood two others. The man she immediately and correctly thought was Oberyn, the youngest and the most mischievous from all that she had heard. He did look more than a little like Loreza herself to her eyes.

The woman standing next to him… at first glance Rhaella had assumed that she would be Elia and they had somehow come before the wedding. Who would blame her for not simply assuming that the woman was in fact Ellaria, the newest Princess Dorne was graced with after she had married Prince Oberyn? That particular prince’s exploits were infamous for a reason, and this would have had to happen in the past five moons, for that was when she had received the last letter Loreza had written before all of this had happened. She would certainly be asking how that marriage had happened, for it could not have been solely for politics.

There were no children to be seen, a fact that she fully understood but was still sad about, for she had heard so much about the youngest children of House Martell. Hopefully she would be able to see them at some point, even if only briefly.

The audience in the throne room had also gone about as well as Rhaella had expected. Framing any future relationship between their realms as the alliance that should have been from the beginning was never going to work as some would hope, but it was the best hope they had at this point, and perhaps they could come to some arrangement that could somewhat salvage things.

There would be meeting upon meeting to figure things out, something she found she wasn’t too torn up about as it would help her drag her trip out longer, but that was not going to ruin her mood this morning. Rhaella had slept well despite the cool night air- in fact, she may have had her best sleep in years, for Sunspear did not hold the terrible memories that King’s Landing did- and upon waking she had received a message from Princess Loreza, asking if she would like to have a private audience with her this morning.

Rhaella was not naïve enough to hope they would ever get another chance to meet. The previous king may have ensured that with his actions- yet another strike against him. But there were some things that had been unspoken for far too long, and she would leap at the chance to give voice to them before it was too late.

She ignored the silent guards on the way to the Princess’ solar, not wanting to see what their eyes held, whether it was disdain or pity or both. Less easy to ignore was the female guard grasping a spear that she recognized as Aldara, the Princess’ chief guard, though her face gave away nothing and she simply nodded at her before opening the door to allow her in, closing the door once she had passed the threshold.

Instead of sitting behind her desk, Loreza had been standing in front of the window, peering out at the scenery, seemingly deep in thought. That did not prevent her from turning around when the door open.

When she turned and saw her, Loreza gave her a genuine, bright smile before crossing the room to take her hands. “Rhaella, my sweet star, I am so relieved to find you so well.”

“I feel better than I have in years,” Rhaella replied quietly, feeling tears start to form in her eyes and trying to will them away and failing, turning her face from her friend’s in shame, for what does she have to cry about anymore?

Loreza letting go of her hands to frame her face, brushing the tears away with her thumbs, made her look back up at her face to see a soft, gentle smile gracing her lips. “My beloved star, it is okay. Things may be over, but that does not mean they never happened, and you bear no shame for letting out your grief.”

That soft reassurance wrenched open the floodgates, and Rhaella threw herself into Loreza’s arms, burying her head into her chest and clutching her as tight as she could as the tears finally fell.

She was barely aware of Loreza moving them to sit down, rearranging them so her head was buried in her shoulder. However, she was more than aware of Loreza gently combing a hand through her hair and singing to her the same songs that she had before when Rhaella had come to her for whatever reason when she was but a hopeful little girl, believing that life was all roses with no thorns to be found.

She had no idea how long they sat there, and she did not believe that it mattered. She was finally able to sob out all of the grief she had experienced over the years, and her companion never showed a single sign of being bothered by it at all.

When Rhaella finally sat up, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve, Loreza gently took her hand and wiped the tears away herself, leaning forward and giving her a kiss on the forehead, smiling at her once again.

“Loreza, I…” she started, clearing her throat before continuing so softly that she could barely be heard, “I… you have always been the mother that I wish I had. I just want you to know that while I still have a chance to tell you myself.”

Loreza smiled softly at her, a smile she knew now to be reserved for her family, cupping her cheek once again. “And I consider you to be my daughter in everything but blood and name,” she said softly. “If I had been able to, you would bear my family’s name as well, and through your children even blood would have been overcome.”

“What?”

She sighed, looking drawn out and tired. “If I had even a moon’s warning of what they had planned, I would have marched to King’s Landing myself and offered to betroth you to Doran. I know that Lady Baratheon would have given me her support, for she no doubt would have offered her own son as a groom had she unfortunately not been born who she was.”

“The fact that you were willing to do that at all is more than enough,” Rhaella replied, giving her a bittersweet smile. “Your youngest was not even a year old, was he not?”

Loreza sighed again. “No. And I did not want to leave him at that time, nor did I wish to leave Elia. They had both seemed to be and were in fact out of danger, but I did not wish to leave and take chances with them, even if my family would be watching them like hawks and they would be well cared for in my absence.”

“I know that well,” Rhaella whispered, closing her eyes and looking away. All of the children she had lost… and the children that would likely never be.

She herself sighed, opening her eyes and moving to look out the window herself, seeing how that particular window was turned to face the harbor and part of the Shadow City. “When I was still little, before that damned woodswitch dared to spew her lies, I had a dream once. A dream of a young girl that looked like me on the deck of a ship, one who answered to the name Daenerys,” she whispered, letting out a bitter laugh. “The dream felt so real, no doubt like the dragon dreams my ancestors seemed to have experienced. Yet that dream will never come true now, for even if I found someone else, someone who would actually care for me and my little Viserys, how could I lie beneath him and let his seed take?”

“There are other ways,” Loreza started slowly, “ways where the woman is the one in charge, including ones that do not involve tying the man down as was possibly your first thought. But never feel pressured to even try. What the creature did to you was horrific, and I doubt anyone will ever force you to remarry, and definitely not to a man that requires an heir.”

She was correct about that. If a man needed an heir, they would not look to a woman who only bore two living children seventeen years apart in age.

Rhaella heard the rustle of skirts that came from Loreza standing up and walking towards her. The princess laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and smiled reassuringly at her once she had turned her head. “Perhaps it was not your daughter you saw in that dream. Perhaps it was a granddaughter or even a great-granddaughter.”

“A great-granddaughter would be lovely. I would love to live to be as old as Princess Meria was out of simple spite, and being able to see my great-grandchildren would imply that.”

Loreza laughed at that. “I believe that was partially why the Yellow Toad herself lived to be that long. But my point is that you could have seen further into the future than you assumed when it happened. Or perhaps it was nothing more than a dream, not a sign of things to come. Either way, do not feel as if you must take the dream into account.” She suddenly sighed, looking away from her, a shadowed look crossing her face. “I did. I dreamt of more children, and while I did not lose as many as you suffered, each one was still a blow.”

Rhaella knew that. Loreza’s words of empathy and comfort had helped her through those losses, knowing that she knew what she was going through during those times at least.

“And yet despite those losses, I continued on, and was blessed with two more wonderful children who I would never exchange for the world. I understand wanting more children, to give your son the siblings they deserve.”

Rhaella gave a small smile, thinking of her sweet youngest who she had left in the care of Septa Rosalind, who had agreed to stay in her service. She wished she could have brought him with her, but unfortunately had not been able to find an acceptable excuse. “Viserys would love a little sister,” she whispered, thinking of how he would be so excited and caring for them.

“From everything I have heard, he would. But keep in mind that he will no doubt be getting some nieces or nephews in the next few years given how old your eldest is, and they will not be so much younger than him that it would make too much of a difference. My own nephew already calls my own sons and daughter uncle and aunt and is close to my granddaughters, after all. The choice is yours, and never feel as if you have to take anyone else into account when making it.”

Rhaella sighed again, turning and embracing Loreza once more. Usually she hated her height, being so short that she barely reached above her shoulders, but now… now it reminded her of when she was younger.

She had told Loreza no lie when she told her that she was the mother she wished that she had been graced with.

When they pulled back, Loreza smiled at her once more and kissed her on the forehead. “Now, can you tell me more of Viserys? Your letters have all spoken of how sweet he is.”

“Only if you tell me of your own nephew and granddaughters, and especially of how your youngest actually found a bride,” she returned with a smile.

“Of course. I love speaking of my family. I must warn you to stop me if I go on for far too long.”

“That won’t be needed,” Rhaella smiled, looking up at her mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I mentioned it in a previous chapter, but yeah, the Rhoynar and their descendants are pretty much only found in Dorne. Thanks to history, not much of their blood can be found north of the Red Mountains, for the Dornish haven't really married out. The next largest population of people with Rhoynish blood are Summer Islanders living on the Isle of Women, descendants of those who chose to stay there rather than continuing on to Dorne with Nymeria. I actually have plans to show them in one of the shorter sequels since that's where Ellaria's grandma is from and where she spent a decent chunk of her childhood ^^
> 
> Honestly Loreza being a Lady-in-waiting for Rhaella kind of doesn't make any sense and unless it turns out that her predecessor ruled for longer than we assume it will continue not to. Personally, since I adore thinking about the relationship between her and Rhaella, I'm headcanoning that it was the combination of a few factors- she wanted to go to seek out friends and allies herself, and she and Maron agreed that it might be good to get out of Dorne for a little while given the grief she'd had when trying to produce living children.
> 
> Loreza's nickname for Rhaella is some variation of star, like sweet star or little star or whatever she feels like at the moment. I mean, stars are usually colored as white or silver and I don't see a Dornishwoman really wanting to call someone a dragon.
> 
> I actually kind of like the idea of Rhaella/Doran because it fits so well on several levels and Rhaella gets happiness and would be about 18-20 when married since Doran's a couple years younger than her. Maybe one day I'll come up with a short idea involving them, who knows.
> 
> I think I am probably going to have Rhaella marry Lucerys in one of the three sequels to this because... well... Rhaegar is already going to be disappointing her enough and she deserves some happiness and Viserys deserves a good father figure and he'll have two step brothers that will help him grow up to be a good man. I am still torn about whether or not to have Dany be born because like they've said, while there are ways she could be in control, they may not exactly help. Maybe her favorite great granddaughter (because she will live to see them) will be a version of Dany instead.
> 
> Off topic, but does anyone have any suggestions for where I should look for names Southern Islanders would have? I got Kaija from another fanfic actually, and I'm at a loss for others.
> 
> Next chapter: Remember that chapter from Mehmed's pov I said there'd be several chapters ago? Yeah. That.


	33. Past and New Loves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mehmed and Elia spend some time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was a few days. Sorry for the later than usual update; the next chapter is more of an epilogue and will likely be shorter so it should be up tomorrow ^^

**Sunspear**

The Kingdom of Dorne’s Millennium festival, the one where they celebrated a thousand years since Nymeria of Ny Sar, Princess of the Rhoynar, and her Ten Thousand Ships came to Dorne and she and Mors Martell began their unification of their lands, had been far less ostentatious than Mehmed had expected.

(Interestingly, while some did casually refer to that particular war as Nymeria’s War, as it was called outside of their borders, the Dornish tended to call it the War of Unification. As had been explained to him when he had asked, it was both Nymeria and Mors that had led the charge, so why would they refer to the war using only one of their names?

Based on this and several other interactions, he had the distinct impression that the Dornish were all collectively annoyed that seemingly no one outside of their borders remembered Prince Mors. Princess Nymeria did outlive her first husband by at least a couple of decades, but it still frustrated them.)

For one, the celebrations had only lasted four days- three in reality, for the festivities had only started barely an hour before sunset on that first night. Though that had made more sense when he learned that, while they observed the anniversary each year, the celebrations typically only lasted a day, maybe two depending on the year.

For another, it was not often that you saw both nobles and commoners alike celebrating together, but that was exactly what had happened.

He had known about the Water Gardens and how children of all backgrounds played there as children if they were anywhere near the area, but he had not expected it to apply outside of those times. Though, as Oberyn had so bluntly put it once, it was very hard to see others as completely inferior than you when you had run around naked with them as little kids and chased everyone with fish or eels or whatever creature they found in the pools that day.

Upon visiting the Water Gardens himself, he had seen that those claims were true. He had not thought what he had heard to be a lie, but it was one thing to hear how something was, and a completely different thing to see it for himself. Watching children of all ages, common and noble alike, splash together in the pools, he could understand Elia’s wish to build one for Moraq’s children.

Mehmed had found himself very pleased with his bride. Elia was indeed what he thought her to be from the tales he had heard and the letters he had received. She had spent as much time as she was able to simply get to know him, though even then she had asked him many questions of what his plans were, genuinely interested in them and already providing any council she could give.

One of the reasons his mother had suggested marriage despite his earlier inclination not to was because she thought that a partner to help him in his rule, as she had been his own father throughout their entire marriage, would not in any way be remiss, and he could see her reasoning now that he actually had one.

Talking to Elia was no hardship, even if most of the smallest Martell children seemed to follow her around like little ducklings and they were forced to entertain them, something she seemed to encourage, no doubt wanting to spend as much time with them as she could before they left in a sennight.

Or at least, they followed her around like ducklings when the eldest of the little snakes was nowhere near.

Case in point, they had been walking through the gardens to Sunspear’s stables as Elia had decided that she wished to go on a ride and that he would be going with her, and the youngest three chose to follow them because they were bored. Ovid (who was actually Elia’s first cousin, not nephew, but as he was the same age as her actual nieces they had collectively decided to make things easier on everyone and were raising him to call everyone but his own parents aunt or uncle) had been standing at his side one moment, listening with an awed expression of some of his exploits, and then the next moment he screamed “Bara!” and was halfway to his eldest cousin before either adult could so much as blink, Arianne and Tyene hot on his heals.

Mehmed had to press his lips together to stop from outright laughing at the way that Obara almost looked like she was about to cry as her youngest sister and cousins circled around her, excitedly asking if she was going to train and if they could please watch her because she was cool and it was exciting to watch and she was the best spearwoman to be found in Sunspear because their fathers were boys and thus were not girls and even then she was the fourth best overall after them and could they please watch her and could she please show them some of her moves so they could be as good as her one day?

Elia wasn’t able to keep her composure near as well as him, resorting to burying her head against his arm and shaking with silent laughter, as the entire scene was truly hilariously adorable.

After the three youngest snakes finally stopped their chatter to take a breath, a resigned Obara waved at the two of them in acknowledgment before heading towards the training grounds, the other three excitedly following her.

Once they were gone, Elia finally lifted her head up, a giant, amused grin still on her face. “Mother believes that the snakelings’ enthusiasm about everything is payment from the gods for all of annoyance my brothers and uncle have given her throughout the years.”

That made him let out a snort. “For Doran, possibly. Oberyn and your uncle seem to delight in the chaos their children bring to the world.”

“That they do. About a moon ago I even caught mother lecturing uncle about how he should not encourage his own son to get into more mischief than he already does. He’s generally quiet if left to his own devices, but he is unfortunately only a few moons older than Arianne and Tyene, both of whom enjoy pranking everyone. I believe they’re actually worse than Oberyn and I were as children.”

“Were?” he asked with a twitch of his lip, causing her to roll her eyes and drag him towards the stables.

One would think that would be the highlight of their walk to the stables. It certainly would have been a pleasing one. But it was not to be.

They were almost there when they ran across the Dayne family, or at least three of their members.

Lady Dynora, the head of the House, he had met in passing a few times. They had never had much time to talk nor did they have much business with each other- any business Starfall had with Moraq she left in the hands of her son, Allem, no doubt wishing for him to see what his role as the Lord of Starfall would entail before she left the earth- but the few times they had she was pleasant enough.

Lady Ashara he had seen much more of. One of Elia’s closest friends, she was coming to Great Moraq as one of her ladies, and would likely share the title of chief lady with Myria Gargalen.

The only men present was what seemed to be a guard or servant, supporting a man with very pale, almost white hair, the pale but still somewhat tanned skin he had found to be common from those in the Red Mountains, and surprising indigo eyes, one who was limping heavily and had his right arm tied in a sling close to his body. His company and appearance led him to believe that this was the infamous Arthur Dayne, but it did not explain why he stared at Elia with such a hurt yet longing look.

Elia, for her part, simply looked surprised to see him before smiling politely and nodding her head at them, greeting them all by name before tugging him over to the stables.

“That was Arthur Dayne?” Mehmed asked as they saddled the horses and led them out, waving their guards away as the farthest they would go would be to the sea.

“Yes. I doubt that Oberyn will be happy to find that he’s finally up and walking, as Ellaria will no doubt force him to talk to him again once she finds out, this time preferably with less screaming, but undoubtedly just as much venom.”

He hummed at that. He could see why Oberyn was less than happy with Dayne, given everything he knew about what Dayne had been an accomplice to, and how much he knew that Oberyn valued the vows he made. It was why he had been so shocked to find that he was getting married, but once he had met Ellaria for himself he understood better.

If he were honest, he was not impressed with Arthur Dayne’s inaction either. He had seen Queen Rhaella with his own eyes, had even spoken to her briefly when she had cheerfully stated that she was only here to negotiate with Dorne and that she had been given no instruction on what to say to the Sultan of Great Moraq and that she would never dream of depriving her son of the chance to speak to him himself, and no matter how long her sleeves were or how high of a collar her gowns featured, it would never completely hide her scars nor the stress her body had been forced through. If he had not known better, he would have thought her to be closer to his own mother and Princess Loreza’s age than Doran’s.

The fact that Dayne stood by and allowed her husband to treat her the way he had- the way the entire order of the Kingsguard had- was nothing short of despicable. There was a reason that each member of the Sultan’s close family were assigned their own Shadow Guards, each ordered to protect their charge beyond all others.

That did not sate his curiosity about what Dayne’s look had meant, however. He did not doubt that whatever had happened was far in the past, nor did he doubt for a single second that Elia felt anything towards him besides friendship, if even that at this point. Unfortunately, that did not mean he was not passingly curious.

He was not going to bring it up. If his wife did not wish to discuss it, he would not force her to. Idle curiosity was not worth forcing confidences, especially so soon after their marriage.

Once they had reached the beach- this stretch further than where the celebrations had been held, but where they could still easily see Sunspear in the distance- and dismounted, Elia turned to him with a neutral look on her face. “You probably wish to know what was between me and Arthur Dayne.”

“I will admit to being curious,” Mehmed admitted, sitting down next to her on the sands, “but if you only feel obliged to tell me, do not.”

Elia sighed, laying down and staring at the sky. “It might help,” she muttered, before continuing louder, “I would like to start by saying that whatever it was, it is over. In fact, I do not believe that it was anything to begin with.”

“I did not doubt that it was. I do not believe that you are the type to lie.”

“Not about things like this to my own husband,” she smiled up at him, before sighing and closing her eyes. “I will admit that I had a crush on him. When I was sixteen, he was my first kiss, in fact, and had he not been near two years older than I was it would have likely happened earlier. At one point, I even fantasized about marrying him, though even then I knew it would likely never happen. Looking back, I am actually relieved that it did not.”

“Why?”

“I would not have been happy with that life. Arthur is a second son, and will likely never inherit anything- something that has become even more likely after these events. Dorne does not forgive, let alone forget.”

That was something Mehmed had seen for himself. He had noticed that the only Targaryen king they referred to as King even somewhat often was Daron II, and even then they usually seemed to refer to him as Daeron the Good. At least for him, they meant that as a sign of respect. With other kings, they seemed to refer to them using other adjectives- far worse monikers for some of them, including Aegon the Conqueror himself and _especially_ Daeron I.

“Maybe I could have been happy, maybe love would conquer all-“ judging by the scorn in Elia’s voice as she said those words, she sincerely doubted that- “but we would have likely lived at Starfall, lived on Dynora and later Allem’s charity. I would have always felt guilty, and would have likely chafed under it once the honeymoon was over. If it had been Sunspear we lived at, if I had made a life advising Doran, that would be another story, but by then I already suspected that would be Oberyn’s lot in life. House Martell does not need all of it’s children to stay in Sunspear and become too insular, to become too unconnected to our people.”

“I do not doubt that Doran would mind if you did. I myself have not yet resigned myself to the knowledge that Jade will likely leave one day.” If she could admit what she did, he could at least say that much.

Elia looked back at him and smiled at that. “Don’t worry, I shall be asking Jade to stay for a few years. From your tales, she reminds me of Oby in some ways, and I must ask her of poisons she learned in Asshai, for Tyene will love them and I must annoy him even I’m not there.”

Mehmed laughed at that declaration. “I am more than willing to aid you with that.”

“Ah yes, your unending petty fight. Just so you know, I refuse to take sides, and will aid and abet him if it strikes my fancy.”

“I would never expect anything else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Mors. He seems to be so much less famous than his wife, and kind of almost seems like an afterthought. So I'm throwing him a bone and having Dorne be collectively annoyed that he doesn't seem to be remembered by anyone, and as a consequence they are also kind of annoyed that they only seem to refer to the war as Nymeria's War. I mean, the northerners seem to always refer to Princess Nymeria as Queen when she never was, so I feel like this is something that makes sense.
> 
> Also, with the Water Gardens, while there is still a gap between the nobility and the common people, it's not as bad as it is in, say, the Reach or elsewhere.
> 
> Obara radiates big sister energy. She wishes she didn't because so many little kids flock to her and she never gets to be alone. In fact, getting to the training grounds through the gardens is going the long way around, she just thought those three would be lying in wait for her at the actual way there, and she was wrong.
> 
> So... I know that apparently people from the Red Mountains are as pale as those outside of Dorne according to GRRM. I don't care. He has no idea how genetics work at all, and I'm not accepting magic as a reason to completely ignore them. So "Stony" Dornish? Still tan, just not as much as those living elsewhere, and can pass if they try.
> 
> Just so you know, Elia doesn't think she wouldn't be happy with Arthur because she's ambitious or anything. It's exactly as she said, she doesn't think that she would be happy simply living on charity, as she sees it. If she lived in Sunspear with Doran specifically as an advisor, it would be another thing.
> 
> Completely off topic, but I was poking around the wiki, and you know how we think Rhaella being forced to marry at 13 and have a kid is bad? May I present to you Aemma Arryn, first wife of Viserys I, who was 11 at marriage if the wiki is to be believed :D Seriously, no wonder Rhaenyra was the only living child...
> 
> Next chapter: Oberyn and Elia :D


	34. A Happier Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our favorite siblings have one final conversation with each other.

**Sunspear**

Oberyn was walking down the hall of his family’s quarters, yawning and trying to decide what he wanted to do these last few hours before tonight’s state dinner, the one meant to be a farewell for the party from Great Moraq before they left the next day, when he saw one of the doors to a recently vacated room halfway open. Being the person he was, he immediately decided to investigate, quietly nudging the door open more so he could walk in.

“Elia?”

His sister startled from her reverie and whirled around to face him. “Oby, stop sneaking up on me!”

“No.”

That made Elia stick her tongue out at him in a childish move that neither of them cared about since there was no one else around, and even if there were it would only be another member of their family. “What are you even doing here?”

“Sneaking up on you!” Oberyn said cheerfully, making Elia give him a completely unimpressed look. “Ellaria and Mellario took the girls down to the Shadow City earlier and they’re still not back,” he finally muttered.

“And so you’re bored and decided to barge in.”

“The door was open,” he said quietly, looking away, as he heard footsteps come down the hall, “and you moved out of these rooms the same day you married. I didn’t expect to see anyone in here except the occasional servant before Arianne moves out of the nursery in a few years.”

He regretted those words, for Elia’s face fell at that reminder that she likely would never live in their family’s quarters ever again. Any time she visited Sunspear, she would stay in one of the many quest quarters, likely the same one she was currently sharing with Mehmed. Only if she was widowed would she have the option, and if that horrible event ever happened he knew that it was far more likely that she would stay in Moraq to help raise any children she bore. The idea of abandoning her children would never so much as enter her mind.

Thankfully, she didn’t get much time to think about it, for they were joined by another. “You mean, when Arianne _and_ Tyene leave the nursery,” Doran said wryly, stepping into the room and gazing at the both of them with a kind look in his eyes. “I wonder if we should even bother giving them separate rooms, for about the only time they do not share a bed is when Tyene is instead trying to cuddle one of her sisters.”

Oberyn snorted. “We have another five years before we have to worry about that.”

“Are you certain you can’t just give it to Obara?” Elia asked, raising an eyebrow. “She’d be out of the nursery herself by now if it weren’t for everything that’s been going on. It seems a shame to let this room stay empty for half a decade.”

It was, Oberyn privately admitted to himself. There were still some personal touches Elia had left- the soft orange color she’d had the walls painted, the furniture that had been left- but it stood empty, only a couple of generic woven hangings on the walls to keep it from being completely bare.

Doran shook his head, looking tired. “Tradition dictates that this room is reserved for one of the ruler or future ruler’s children, not for the ones of their own younger siblings. If it were only up to me, I would be more than willing for Obara to take it for herself.”

All three of them sighed. Traditions had a place, yes, but some of them were odd, such as this. No one outside of their family would even know who slept in what rooms, nor would they likely care if they did.

After a moment, Elia turned back to him. “Oby, I’ve been meaning to ask, but how in the world did you end up in Moraq to begin with? I don’t think you ever said.”

“I got on a ship.”

Both of his elder siblings turned to look at him with completely unimpressed faces, making him scowl at the both of them. “I’m not going to miss that,” he muttered, looking away.

“That would be because it works,” Doran muttered.

Elia rolled her eyes at him. “You didn’t even tell mama how it happened, let alone either of us.”

“That’s because you never asked. Ellaria is the only one who’s ever actually asked. No one in our family besides her have actually asked exactly how I ended up there.”

Both of them stared at him, more than likely about to prove him wrong before realizing they couldn’t. The simultaneous realization was one of the most amusing things he had seen in the past few years.

Elia actually groaned and buried her head in her hands while Doran sighed and looked even more exhausted than usual. “Are you kidding me?”

“Nope!”

Doran sighed again and ran a hand over his face before asking, “Would you be willing to tell us now that we have asked?”

“On one condition: you tell no one because I want to mess with historians when they try to figure it out in the future.”

Both of his older siblings stayed silent for a moment, before:

“That… does sound entertaining.”

And now it was the two younger siblings that stared at the eldest, causing Doran to narrow his eyes at them. “I am allowed to have fun sometimes. I fail to see why both of you must think otherwise.”

They just stared at him for a few more seconds before Oberyn turned to his sister. “Elia?”

She smiled at him. “Of course I will not tell anyone. Why would I? As Doan said, it does sound very fun.”

His sinister plot to screw with historians assured, he told them the entire story.

Neither of them were exactly surprised and admitted that they didn’t know what they had expected. Doran even mused that perhaps he should send him to negotiate with certain troublesome people while he was that drunk, but discarded the idea after a moment for fear that it would only encourage his terrible habits.

Before Oberyn could protest and say he did not have any terrible habits and how dare he suggest that he did, Elia rolled her eyes at the both of them before distracting him by taking his hands and smiling at him. “Oby, it doesn’t matter how it happened. What matters is that you did it, and I want to thank you for it. Unintentional as it may have been, your actions have led me to a happier fate than I ever dreamed of.”

Oberyn smiled back at her, wrapping his beloved older sister in a hug. “Don’t thank me. You deserve nothing but the best.”

Elia laughed at that, a slightly watery one. “I will thank you, and you will not brush it off, Oby,” she said softly, voice full of emotion.

After a moment, Doran joined the hug, and all three siblings stood there for who knows how long, simply enjoying this single moment.

As a rule, Oberyn did not regret much in his life. He made his choices.

But whatever comes, this would never be one of them. As he said, Elia deserves happiness in her life, and if he could help her gain that, his life was well spent.

He still had to make certain Ellaria was happy, that the children he had would have the lives they wished, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry much about Elia. He knew that she would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doran is not so above it all and you will not convince me otherwise.
> 
> Thus ends Children of the Western Sun! Thank you so much to everyone that has read through this, you guys really have helped me get through this ^^
> 
> As I have said before, there will be sequels. Barring any one shot ideas I come up with, I have three multi chapter fics in mind, though they won't be anywhere near as long as this one:  
> 1) The Martell family through the years of 1001-1002/280-281, since we're getting a few new members in that time. Expect to see more of Great Moraq and even the Southern Isles, and for a visit from Mellario's family. Will probably end up being about five chapters.  
> 2) Rhaella and what's going on in King's Landing. Will also feature Queen Cersei who's getting a bit of a redemption arc (helps that she hasn't done anything that bad yet), who by the way I have decided to age up by a year. And Rhaella getting a husband who actually cares, though I'm still not promising Dany.  
> 3) Arianne growing up! We'll get to see some of the changes going on in Dorne!
> 
> I'd suggest you subscribe to the series so you'll get updates when I get them out ^^
> 
> Apart from those, I also hope to get the Rhoynish Water Magic au out within the next month, so please look forward to that too.
> 
> Anyway, seriously, thank you all for sticking all the way to the end!


End file.
